THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


SWATTY 

A  Story  of  Real  Boys 


SWATTY  JUST  STOOD  AND  LOOKED  (page  195) 


SWATTY 

A  Story  of  Real  Boys 

BY 

ELLIS  PARKER  BUTLER 


With  Illustrations 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
The  Riverside  Press  Cambridge 


COPYRIGHT,   1915,  1916,  1917,  AND  1918,   BY  THE  CROWBLL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,    1930,    BY    BLLIS    PARKER    BUTLER 

ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


TO 

FRED  ERNST  SCHMIDT 

OF  MUSCATINE,  IOWA 
THE  FAITHFUL  COMPANION  OF  MY  BOYHOOD 

THIS  BOOK 
IS  MOST  GRATEFULLY  INSCRIBED 


2037946 


CONTENTS 

I.  THE  BIG  RIVER  ;  i 

II.  MAMIE'S  FATHER  27 

III.  THE  "DIVORCE"  47 

IV.  THE  STUMP  71 
V.  SCRATCH-CAT  95 

VI.  THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING  122 

VII.  THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE  146 

VIII.  WASTED  EFFORT  168 

IX.  THE  MURDERERS  189 

X.  SLIM  FINNEGAN  216 

XL  "THIEF!  THIEF!"  241 

XII.  THE  RED  AVENGERS  255 

XIII.  THE  ICE  GOES  OUT  273 

XIV.  HERB  BESTIRS  293 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

SWATTY  JUST  STOOD  AND  LOOKED  Frontispiece 

OUT   OF  THE    BROKEN   WINDOW   AND    HALFWAY 
ACROSS  THE  STREET  44 

WE  WERE  ON  THE  PORCH  OF  THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE!    158 

I  THOUGHT  HE  *D  NEVER  REACH  THE  ICE  2QO 

From  drawings  by  W.  B.  KING 


SWATTY 

A  Story  of  Real  Boys 

I 

THE  BIG  RIVER 

I  GUESS  if  teachers  always  knew  how  lickings  were 
going  to  turn  out  they  would  n't  lick  us  fellows  so 
much.  I  am  thinking  about  Miss  Murphy,  the  one 
that  taught  the  room  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  was 
in,  and  about  the  time  she  was  going  to  lick  Swatty. 
One  of  the  times.  There  were  plenty  of  others. 

You  see,  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  is  chums,  and 
we  go  together  mostly,  but  this  was  when  we  was 
in  Miss  Murphy's  room.  She's  a  good-looker,  but 
she's  a  tartar,  too,  when  it  comes  to  licking. 

The  way  of  it  was  this:  My  sister  Fan  was  mushy 
over  Swatty 's  brother  Herb  and  she  did  n't  care  who 
knew  it,  because  they  were  engaged,  and  Fan  was 
fixing  up  her  things  to  get  married  in,  and  she  wished 
I  was  a  girl  so  I  could  be  her  flower  girl  at  the  wed- 
ding, but  she  did  n't  know  what  she'd  do  with  me. 
She  thought  maybe  she'd  lock  me  in  the  cellar,  she 
said,  but  she  did  n't  mean  it.  She  was  always  cod- 
ding me  and  Swatty.  She'd  cod  us  that  way,  and 


SWATTY 

then  she'd  give  us  a  dime  or  something.  She  was  all 
right,  and  Swatty  thought  so  too. 

So  then  Fan  and  Herb  had  a  fight,  like  girls  and 
fellows  always  do  have;  but  this  was  a  good  one. 
It  was  because  Herb  said  maybe  Fan  would  like  to 
have  Miss  Murphy  for  a  bridesmaid,  and  Fan  got 
mad  because  Herb  had  gone  with  Miss  Murphy 
once.  So  then  Fan  would  n't  forgive  Herb.  Herb 
came  over  and  fought  for  three  evenings,  and  then 
Swatty  brought  a  note  from  him  to  Fan,  and  I  took 
one  from  Fan  to  Herb,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 
The  note  I  took  had  a  ring  in  it,  because  I  could  feel 
it.  Then  Fan  just  moped  around  the  house  and  cried 
some,  and  after  a  while  Herb  had  to  go  and  teach 
the  eighth  grade  at  school,  because  Professor  Martin 
broke  his  leg  on  the  ice  the  janitor  ought  to  have 
scraped  off  the  steps  but  did  n't.  So  right  away  Herb 
began  to  get  thick  with  Miss  Murphy,  but  that 
did  n't  make  any  difference  to  me.  As  soon  as  a  fel- 
low has  n't  got  one  girl  he  has  another  one,  anyway, 
and  I  did  n't  blame  Herb.  I  was  just  sorry  for  Fan. 
And  I  thought  Herb  was  crazy  to  make  up  to  a 
school-teacher,  especially  a  tartar  like  Miss  Murphy. 
She  was  an  awful  licker.  She'd  lick  a  fellow  for 
anything. 

Well,  one  day  me  and  Swatty  was  going  to  school 
and  we  was  talking  at  each  other  the  way  we  always 
did,  and  I  said  he  thought  he  was  great,  did  n't  he, 
because  his  brother  was  Miss  Murphy's  beau,  and 
Miss  Murphy  would  n't  lick  him  when  his  brother 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

was  her  beau.  I  did  n't  mean  anything,  I  just  said  it, 
but  Swatty  hauled  off  and  hit  me  one  and  dared  me 
to  say  that  again.  So  I  said  it  again,  and  all  the  fel- 
lows got  around  and  yelled  "Fight!  Fight!"  and  I 
had  to  fight  him.  It  would  have  been  a  pretty  good 
fight  if  Miss  Murphy  had  n't  come  along.  She 
jumped  right  at  us  and  grabbed  us  both. 

"Who  started  this  fight?"  she  asked,  hopping 
mad. 
V1  He  did,"  I  said. 

"Did  n't  neither!"  said  Swatty.  "He  did." 

"Who  struck  the  first  blow?"  says  Miss  Murphy. 

Well,  everybody  told  her  Swatty  did,  which  was 
the  truth,  and  she  let  me  go. 

"Just  as  I  thought,  you  —  you  little  bulldozer," 
she  said,  shaking  him.  "You've  been  getting  entirely 
too  uppish  of  late,  young  man.  You  think  you  can 
take  advantage  of  —  of  circumstances;  but  I  '11  teach 
you  a  thing  or  two.  Get  into  school  there,  and  wash 
yourself,  and  see  that  you  are  in  your  seat  when  the 
bell  rings." 

So  Swatty  did  it.  Me  and  the  Bony  Highlander 
stayed  out  till  the  bell  rung,  and  then  we  went  in, 
too,  and  as  we  went  past  Swatty's  desk  he  whis- 
pered, "She  thinks  she's  going  to  lick  me,  but  she 
ain't." 

"Bet  she  does,  if  she  said  so,"  I  says;  and  I  bet 
she  would,  too.  So  did  the  Bony  Highlander,  because 
we  knew  she  was  the  sort  that  would  rather  lick  a 
fellow  than  not. 


SWATTY 

Well,  that  was  in  the  morning,  and  they  never  lick 
at  noon  because  the  way  some  fellows  wriggle  and 
twist  it  takes  a  long  time  to  lick  them,  and  it  would 
use  up  the  noon  hour.  So  they  lick  after  school  in 
the  afternoon  when  there  is  plenty  of  time.  So  me 
and  the  Bony  Highlander  waited  for  Swatty,  and  we 
tried  to  scare  him.  We  told  him  we  bet  Miss  Murphy 
would  make  him  holler,  because  she  licked  with  a 
rawhide  pony  switch  and  whipped  on  the  legs  where 
the  switch  would  wrap  around  and  sting,  but  we 
could  n't  get  Swatty  to  even  pretend  he  might  holler. 
He  said  no  teacher  in"  the  world  f could  make  him 
holler.  We  all  said  it.  Or,  I  don't  know  whether  the 
Bony  Highlander  said  it  or  not.  He'd  never  been 
licked  in  school.  He  was  n't  the  kind  that  gets  licked, 
somehow.  But  he  was  a  pretty  nice  fellow,  anyway. 
We  liked  him  just  as  well,  but  not  as  well  as  Swatty 
and  me  liked  each  other  of  course,  because  me  and 
Swatty  was  cow-cousins. 

Me  and  Swatty  was  both  raised  on  the  milk  of 
the  same  cow,  but  it  was  Schwartzes'  cow,  and  when 
I  was  being  raised  on  it  Herb  Schwartz  used  to  fetch 
the  milk  around,  the  way  Swatty  does  now.  I  guess 
that's  how  Herb  got  to  know  Fan.  But  the  Bony 
Highlander  was  just  a  kid  that  moved  into  the 
neighborhood. 

His  name  was  n't  really  Bony  Highlander,  but  we 
called  him  that  because  when  he  was  reading  a  piece 
of  poetry  out  of  the  Reader  in  school,  and  ought  to 
have  said  "bonny  Highlander,"  he  said  "bony 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

Highlander."  But  we  mostly  called  him  Bony  for 
short,  like  we  called  Schwartzy  Swatty*  for  short. 
He  was  all  right,  but  he  never  started  to  do  things; 
he  just  went  along  when  we  did  them,  and  waited 
on  the  outside  of  the  fence,  and  things  like  that. 

Well,  we  waited  on  the  corner  for  Swatty  that 
afternoon  until  the  bell  rung  but  he  did  n't  come,  so 
we  went  along,  and  he  was  at  school  already,  and 
after  he  had  stayed  in  to  be  licked  and  Miss  Murphy 
let  him  out,  he  told  us  why  he  went  early.  He  knew 
where  she  kept  her  rawhide,  in  the  closet  at  the  end 
of  the  room  on  the  shelf  where  the  chalk  boxes  were, 
and  he  went  early  at  noon  and  took  his  pocket- 
knife  and  cut  the  rawhide  into  little  pieces  about  an 
inch  long.  He  laid  them  all  out  on  the  shelf  in  a  row, 
and  he  said  he  nearly  died  laughing  when  she  went 
to  pick  it  up  and  it  was  all  in  pieces.  So  Miss  Murphy 
went  to  get  another  rawhide  from  another  teacher, 
but  everybody  had  gone  home,  and  she  told  Swatty 
she  would  tend  to  him  to-morrow. 

"I'd  rather  have  been  licked  to-day  and  then 
I  'd  be  done  with  it,"  I  said,  but  Swatty  did  n't  say  so. 

"If  you've  got  a  licking,"  he  said,  "you've  got 
it,  and  you  can't  ever  un-get  it,  but  I  ain't  ever  going 
to  get  this  one.  I'll  run  away  first." 

"Ah,  I  bet  you  get  it  to-morrow,"  I  said,  and  the 
Bony  Highlander  said  so  too. 

"Bet  I  don't!"  said  Swatty.  So  we  made  a  bet. 
I  bet  him  my  clay  pipe  against  a  nigger-shooter 
rubber  he  had. 


SWATTY 

So  the  next  day  was  when  we'd  know,  and  at  noon 
Swatty  came  over  to  my  barn  to  get  some  oilcloth 
we  had  in  the  barn  to  put  in  his  pants  so  the  licking 
would  n't  hurt  so  much,  and  I  guessed  I  would  win 
the  bet.  But  he  could  n't  fix  the  oilcloth  so  it  would 
do  any  good  and  let  him  sit  down.  He  thought  Miss 
Murphy  would  be  onto  it  if  he  could  n't  sit  down. 
So  he  gave  that  up.  So  we  went  to  school. 

When  school  was  nearly  out  Swatty  got  up  and 
started  to  walk  down  his  aisle  and  up  the  next,  like 
he  was  going  out  for  a  drink,  but  Miss  Murphy,  who 
was  doing  an  example  on  the  blackboard  for  the 
B  class,  turned  around  and  saw  him. 
}  "Where  are  you  going?"  she  asked,  like  tacks  in 
a  bottle. 

"Just  to  get  a  drink,"  said  Swatty. 

"You  take  your  seat  this  instant!"  said  Miss 
Murphy,  and  when  she  said  it,  Swatty  started  to 
run;  but  she  got  there  first  and  headed  him  off  and 
grabbed  him  by  the  arm.  He  kicked  at  her  shins, 
but  she  gave  him  a  shake  that  made  him  see  stars 
and  marched  him  back  to  the  end  of  the  room.  I 
thought  she  was  going  to  take  him  to  his  seat,  but 
she  did  n't. 

Our  schoolhouse  has  four  rooms  on  a  floor  —  two 
in  front  and  two  in  back  —  and  the  hall  comes  in 
the  middle,  but  it  don't  run  all  the  way  from  front 
to  back.  In  the  middle  in  front  on  the  second  floor 
there  is  a  little  room  with  some  books  in  it,  and  they 
call  it  the  library  room. 

6 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

It  has  a  window  and  three  doors  —  one  into  the 
hall  and  one  into  our  room,  and  one  into  the  room 
across  the  hall.  So  Miss  Murphy  yanked  Swatty  into 
that  room  and  locked  all  three  doors.  So  she  had  him 
safe  until  she  got  ready  to  lick  him.  Then  she  was 
going  to  unlock  the  door  and  bring  him  out  and  do 
a  good  job,  because  she  had  a  new  rawhide  all  ready. 
I  guess  she  made  up  her  mind  she'd  lick  him  until 
he  hollered  that  time. 

So  Swatty  waited  until  school  was  out.  Then  he 
had  to  wait  until  Miss  Murphy  got  rid  of  the  ones 
she  had  kept  in  to  write  their  names  five  hundred 
times,  and  things  like  that,  but  he  did  n't  wait.  He 
opened  the  window  and  looked  out,  and  right  below 
him  was  the  peak  roof  of  the  porch.  It  was  n't  very 
big,  and  it  was  slated,  and  if  he  slipped  he'd  be  a 
goner  and  break  a  leg  or  something,  but  he  got  onto 
the  window  sill  and  hung  down  with  his  hands  on 
the  sill,  and  dropped.  He  dropped  straddle  of  the 
roof  and  hung  on  the  best  way  he  could. 

He  said  the  only  thing  he  thought  about  was 
what  a  fool  he  had  been  not  to  shut  the  window,  but 
it  was  June  and  most  of  the  windows  were  wide  open 
anyway,  and  I  guess  Miss  Murphy  did  n't  notice. 
She  unlocked  the  door  and  looked  into  the  room  and 
Swatty  was  n't  there.  Then  I  guess  she  thought 
maybe  somebody  had  come  to  the  library  room  for 
a  book  and  had  let  Swatty  out.  She  never  put  her 
head  out  of  the  window  at  all.  So  she  was  beaten 
that  time,  and  she  went  home. 


SWATTY 

So  Swatty  waited  until  the  janitor  had  swept  all 
the  rooms  and  started  to  sweep  the  walk  and  he 
hollered  to  him.  It  is  none  of  the  janitor's  business 
who  gets  licked  or  who  don't,  so  he  came  up  to  the 
room  and  helped  Swatty  get  in  the  window.  He  just 
laughed  about  it. 

So  the  next  day  Swatty  went  to  school  just  the 
same  as  always,  but  at  noon  he  came  over  to  my 
barn  and  Bony  came  with  him.  They  generally  came 
because  I  had  to  feed  my  rabbits  at  noon.  This  time 
Swatty  sort  of  poked  at  the  sawdust  that  was  the 
floor  of  our  barn  and  did  n't  say  much.  He  most 
generally  wore  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head,  but 
this  time  he  had  it  pulled  down  over  his  eyes  and 
that  was  the  way  he  did  when  he  was  getting  ready 
to  fight  a  fellow. 

After  a  while  he  looked  up. 

"Are  you  fellows  going  to  school  this  afternoon?" 
he  asked. 

"Yes,"  I  said.  " Ain't  you?" 

"Go  and  get  licked?  I  guess  not!"  he  said.  "I'm 
going  down  to  the  river." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  down  at  the  river?" 
Bony  asked. 

"Going  to  look  at  it;  what  you  think  I'm  going 
to  do?"  said  Swatty. 

Well,  looking  at  it  was  n't  a  bad  thing  to  do,  be- 
cause the  river  was  away  up,  and  when  the  Missis- 
sippi is  up  it  is  worth  looking  at.  It  looks  twice  as 
big  and  sort  of  rounded  up  in  the  middle,  and  all 
8 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

sorts  of  things  floating  down  it  —  dead  trees,  and 
boxes,  and  logs,  and  dead  pigs,  and  sometimes  sheds 
and  things.  It  generally  gets  up  in  June,  and  we  al- 
ways go  down  on  Saturdays  to  see  how  she 's  getting 
along. 

"She's  higher  than  she  ever  was,"  said  Swatty. 

"Well,  I  guess  she'll  be  mighty  high  by  Satur- 
day," said  Bony. 

"No,  she  won't,"  said  Swatty,  "because  she's 
going  to  begin  falling  to-day,  the  paper  says.  Why 
don't  you  come  along  down  with  me?" 

"Yes,  and  get  licked  for  staying  out  of  school!" 
I  said. 

"All  right  for  you  fellows,  then!"  said  Swatty. 
"I'll  be  mad  at  you  for  good.  If  you  were  going  to 
get  licked  I  'd  just  want  to  do  something  so  I  could 
get  licked  too.  Don't  I  always  stick  by  you  fellows? 
And  when  I  'm  going  to  get  licked  you  go  back  on 
me.  You're  'fraid-cats." 

"Who's  a  'fraid-cat?"  I  asked,  for  I  don't  let 
anybody  call  me  that. 

"You  are!"  said  Swatty.  "And  so's  Bony.  You're 
afraid  to  stay  out  of  school  one  afternoon.  You're 
afraid  to  stay  out  the  day  the  river  hits  high-water 
mark.  You'll  look  nice,  won't  you,  with  just  you 
and  Bony  and  a  lot  of  girls  in  school!" 

"Who  said  we'd  be  the  only  kids  there?"  I  asked. 

"Who  said  it?  Why,  I  said  it.  You  don't  think 
any  kids  will  go  to  school  this  afternoon,  do  you? 
Everybody  will  be  down  at  the  levee  —  men  and 

9 


SWATTY 

everybody.  If  the  river  don't  drop  this  afternoon 
she'll  go  over  the  island  levee.  And  you  sit  around 
in  school  like  it  was  a  common  day!  Why,  it's  like 
—  like  election,  or  Fourth  of  July,  or  something  like 
that!  It's  worse  than  when  the  ice  goes  out." 

Well,  I  never  knew  a  boy  to  get  licked  for  staying 
out  of  school  when  the  ice  was  going  out  of  the  river. 
He  gets  kept  in  the  next  day,  or  something,  but  no- 
body can  blame  a  boy  for  wanting  to  see  the  ice  go 
out,  not  even  a  teacher.  So  I  guessed  I'd  go  with 
Swatty,  if  I  could  sneak  it.  Bony  did  n't  want  to  go 
much,  but  he  did  n't  like  both  of  us  to  call  him  a 
'fraid-cat,  so  he  came.  We  climbed  out  of  my  barn 
window,  because  Swatty  said  we'd  have  to  be  care- 
ful; but  I  guess  it  was  n't  much  use,  because  if  we 
had  gone  out  of  the  back  gate  it  would  have  done 
just  as  well,  and  if  we  had  gone  out  of  the  front  gate 
nobody  would  have  thought  anything  but  that  we 
were  going  to  school.  We  kept  in  the  alley  all  the 
way  down  to  Indian  Creek,  and  Indian  Creek  was 
worth  seeing,  I  tell  you. 

Mostly  there  is  nothing  in  it  but  a  little  bit  of 
water  twisting  along  in  the  wet  sand,  away  down  in 
the  bottom  of  the  creek  bed,  but  now  the  creek  was 
full  right  up  to  the  top,  and  there  were  rowboats 
moored  in  it.  We  played  in  the  rowboats  a  whi'e, 
until  a  man  came  and  chased  us  away,  and  then  we 
went  down  along  the  creek  to  the  river.  I  tell  you, 
she  was  some  river! 

She  went  rushing  along,  all  big  and  muddy  and 
10 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

foamy,  and  she  was  half  covered  with  floating  stuff 
• —  bark  and  whole  haystacks  and  old  trees  and 
boards  and  boxes  and  things.  It  scared  a  fellow  just 
to  look  at  her.  It  made  me  feel  the  way  a  little  baby 
feels  when  a  big  twelve-wheel  mogul  engine  comes 
roaring  up  to  the  depot  platform,  only  ten  times  as 
scary.  It  was  like  a  whole  ocean  starting  out  to  rush 
away  somewhere.  We  just  stood  and  looked  at  it, 
and  pretty  soon  Swatty  says,  "Gosh!"  Only  he 
always  says ' '  Garsh ! "  And  I  said, ' '  Gee ! "  That  was 
all  we  said,  and  Bony  did  n't  say  anything.  He  just 
stepped  backward  three  or  four  steps  and  looked 
frightened.  That's  the  way  you  always  feel  when 
you  see  the  old  Mississippi  on  a  rampage.  You  feel 
as  if  you  ought  to  do  something  to  stop  it,  and  you 
know  you  can't  —  that  nobody  can.  When  it  gets 
going  it  is  going  to  keep  right  on.  So  we  went  down 
to  the  levee. 

Well,  there  was  n't  any  levee!  Our  levee  is  just  a 
long  down-hill  of  sand,  and  it  was  n't  there.  The 
river  had  backed  clean  up  to  the  railroad  tracks  and 
was  sploshing  against  the  second  rail  of  the  outside 
track,  and  at  the  down-river  end  of  the  levee  it  had 
gone  under  the  tracks  and  was  all  over  Front  Street 
at  the  corner.  The  ferry  dock,  that  was  usually  away 
down  at  the  bottom  of  the  levee,  was  tied  right  up 
close  to  the  railroad  track,  and  the  ferry  was  tied  in 
behind  the  steamboat  warehouse,  so  she  would  n't 
wash  away.  The  water  was  clean  up  over  the  floor 
of  the  steamboat  warehouse,  too,  and  nothing  looked 
ii 


SWATTY 

the  way  it  used  to  look.  It  was  worth  forty  lickings 
just  to  see  how  different  everything  was.  We  just 
stood  and  looked  and  could  n't  believe  it. 

"Come  on,"  said  Swatty,  all  at  once,  "let's  have 
some  fun.  Let's  take  off  our  shoes  and  stockings  and 
have  some  fun." 

We  went  across  the  street  and  asked  a  man  if  we 
could  leave  our  shoes  and  stockings  in  his  store,  and 
he  said  we  could,  and  then  we  went  back  and  began 
to  wade  where  the  water  was  n't  very  deep.  There 
were  a  few  other  boys  there,  wading,  and  a  lot  of 
men  standing  around,  looking  at  the  water.  Some 
would  come  down  and  look  a  while  and  then  go  away 
again,  and  all  at  once  Swatty  said,  "Garsh!  \Vhat  if 
our  fathers  came  down  here!" 

So  we  got  away  from  there,  quick.  We  went  down 
below  the  steamboat  warehouse,  where  the  ferry- 
boat was  tied,  because  nobody  was  apt  to  come 
down  there,  and  nobody  did.  We  played  on  the 
ferryboat  a  while  and  then  we  got  off  her,  and 
Swatty  saw  where  somebody  had  fastened  a  lot  of 
logs  and  bridge  timbers  to  the  railway  track.  I  guess 
they  were  stuff  some  men  had  gone  out  in  skiffs  to 
catch  as  they  floated  by,  before  the  river  got  so 
rampageous.  The  way  they  fastened  them  was  to 
drive  a  spike  in  one  end  and  tie  a  rope  to  that,  and 
then  tie  the  other  end  to  the  railway  track.  So 
Swatty  said,  "Come  on!  Let's  have  some  fun  with 
these  logs  and  bridge  timbers,"  or  something  like 
that;  so  we  did.  We  walked  on  them,  and  some  of 
12 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

them  would  sink  under  us,  and  then  we  would  jump 
to  another. 

Well,  there  below  the  steamboat  warehouse  the 
water  made  an  eddy,  and  the  bark  and  foam  and 
some  sticks  kept  going  around  and  around  in  the 
eddy,  and  pretty  soon  Swatty  said:  "Let's  ride  on 
these  logs,"  and  that  was  all  right,  too,  because  we 
could  sit  straddle  of  a  log  or  a  bridge  timber  and 
paddle  with  our  feet.  So  we  did  that.  Swatty  cut 
three  of  them  loose,  and  we  each  took  a  bridge  tim- 
ber, because  they  did  n't  turn  over  like  the  logs  did, 
and  we  paddled  around  in  the  eddy  and  played 
we  were  steamboats.  I  was  the  "War  Eagle,"  and 
Swatty  was  the  "Mary  Morton,"  and  Bony  was  the 
"Centennial."  We  played  that  a  long  time  and  then 
we  took  boards  for  paddles,  and  we  could  go  better 
that  way  so  we  played  Indians  in  canoes,  and  I  got 
on  Swatty's  timber  and  let  mine  go,  which  was  all 
right  because  the  timbers  would  just  go  around 
and  around  in  the  eddy.  But  Bony  would  n't  get  on 
with  us,  because  he  was  afraid  the  timber  would 
sink. 

It  got  along  to  about  five  o'clock,  and  Bony  said 
we  had  better  go  home.  He  was  always  the  first  to 
want  to  go  home.  He  told  Swatty  that  Swatty  would 
be  late  going  for  his  cow  if  he  did  n't  start  right 
away,  but  Swatty  said  he  did  n't  care  if  the  old  cow 
never  got  home.  He  said  it  would  n't  hurt  the  old 
cow  to  wait  a  while,  anyway.  So  we  started  to  paddle 
around  the  eddy  again,  and  that  time  we  got  almost 

13 


SWATTY 

too  far  out,  I  guess,  and  the  end  of  the  timber  stuck 
out  beyond  the  eddy  into  the  swift  water. 

"Back  her  up!  Quick!"  Swatty  yelled,  and  we 
both  tried  to  back  her  with  our  board  paddles,  but 
it  was  too  late.  The  swift  water  caught  her  on  the 
side  and  swung  her  right  out  into  the  current.  Gee, 
but  she  went !  Right  away  she  was  half  a  block  away 
from  Bony  and  I  began  to  cry,  for  there  was  no  tell- 
ing where  she'd  stop.  You  could  n't  expect  her  to 
stop  this  side  of  St.  Louis  or  New  Orleans.  So  I 
began  to  cry,  and  I  stooped  down  and  hung  onto 
the  timber  with  both  arms.  It  was  all  I  could  think 
of  to  do.  But  Swatty  let  on  he  was  n't  scared  at  all. 
He  tried  to  paddle  toward  shore,  but  there  was  so 
much  driftwood  and  stuff  floating  that  he  could  n't 
doit. 

"Aw,  shut  up!  Don't  be  a  cry-baby!"  he  yelled 
at  me.  "This  ain't  nothing.  Grab  your  paddle,  and 
we'll  paddle  out  to  the  Tow  Head  and  we'll  be  all 
right." 

The  Tow  Head  is  the  big  island  in  the  river  below 
town,  but  more  to  this  side  of  the  river  than  to  the 
other  side.  It  is  shaped  like  a  horseshoe,  with  the 
two  ends  down-stream.  Me  and  Swatty  knew  it 
pretty  well  because  sometimes  we  used  to  row  down 
there.  It  was  all  trees  except  a  strip  of  sand  on  each 
side,  and  in  low  water  there  used  to  be  a  sandbar 
below  it.  It  looked  like  a  good  idea  to  get  to  the  Tow 
Head  if  we  could;  but  I  was  afraid  to  sit  up  so  I  just 
stayed  the  way  I  was.  But  Swatty  paddled  like  a 
14 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

good  fellow.  I  guess  the  current  helped  him  some. 
In  low  water  there  are  two  channels,  one  on  each  side 
of  the  Tow  Head,  but  when  the  river  is  on  a  rampage 
it  don't  care  anything  about  channels  —  it  just  goes. 
But  it  kind  of  bends  below  town  and  I  guess  that 
helped  Swatty. 

He  kept  yelling  at  me  not  to  be  a  'fraid-cat  and  to 
paddle,  but  I  did  n't  dare.  So  he  paddled,  and  pretty 
soon  I  saw  he  was  going  to  hit  the  Tow  Head  all 
right.  That  made  me  feel  better  and  I  kind  of  raised 
up  on  my  hands  and  stopped  crying,  but  when  I 
looked  I  was  scared  worse  than  ever.  It  looked  as  if 
the  Tow  Head  was  coming  up-stream  like  a  big 
packet  at  full  tilt.  It  did  n't  look  as  if  we  were  float- 
ing down  to  it,  but  as  if  it  was  tearing  up-stream 
toward  us,  and  it  was  coming  lickety-split.  At  its 
nose,  where  the  water  hit  it,  the  river  reared  up  in  a 
big  yellow  wave,  like  the  bow  wave  of  a  ship,  and 
was  cut  into  foam  and  spray  where  it  hit  the  trees 
and  then  rushed  away  on  either  side  like  mad.  So  I 
saw  Swatty  had  made  a  mistake  in  trying  to  land 
on  the  Tow  Head. 

There  was  n't  really  any  Tow  Head  to  land  on. 
The  river  was  way  up  in  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
and  I  guess  the  water  was  ten  feet  deep  all  over  the 
Tow  Head,  or  deeper,  and  rushing  through  the  trees 
like  it  was  crazy.  But  we  did  n't  have  time  to  think 
much  about  it.  We  just  had  time  to  be  scared,  and  to 
see  the  old  Tow  Head  come  rushing  and  foaming 
at  us,  and  then  it  sort  of  nabbed  us,  like  a  cat  nabs  a 

15 


SWATTY 

mouse.  It  was  all  a  big  swosh  of  water  noises  and  a 
big  swosh  of  tree  branches  being  slashed  by  the 
water,  and  then  me  and  Swatty  was  splashed  all 
over,  and  the  bridge  timber  banged  into  two  trees 
and  stuck.  Swatty  went  off  the  timber  like  a  stone 
out  of  a  nigger-shooter,  but  I  hung  on.  I  've  got  a 
black  and  blue  spot  inside  my  leg  yet,  where  it  hit 
the  edge  of  the  timber.  Right  away  the  water  began 
to  surge  over  the  timber  like  a  giant  pushing  against 
me,  and  I  saw  I  could  n't  hang  on  there  very  long,  so 
I  reached  up  and  grabbed  a  branch  of  one  of  the 
trees  and  hoisted  myself  up  and  got  up  in  the  tree. 
And  there  was  Swatty!  He  was  n't  in  my  tree,  but 
he  was  in  the  tree  next  below  mine. 

"Garsh!"  he  said,  and  that  was  all  he  said  right 
then.  So  I  began  to  cry.  It  would  make  anybody  cry 
to  be  there,  up  in  a  tree,  with  the  whole  Mississippi 
River  rushing  along  under  him,  so  near  he  could 
stick  his  toes  down  into  it.  It's  an  awful  thing  to 
think  about.  You  can  sit  in  a  tree  and  look  at  a  creek 
run  under  you  and  you  don't  care,  but  when  the 
Mississippi  is  on  a  tear  it  is  different.  It's  the  biggest 
and  strongest  thing  in  the  world,  and  there  was  all  of 
it  rushing  along  right  under  us,  and  the  tree  sort  of 
waving  back  and  forth. 

So  I  cried. 

"Aw,  shut  up!"  Swatty  said.  "What  are  you 
crying  about?" 

Well,  I  guess  we  were  in  a  pretty  bad  fix  —  worse 
than  we  thought  we  were.  No  boat  there  ever  was 
16 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

could  get  at  us  where  we  were.  No  boat  could  come 
at  that  Tow  Head  the  way  we  did  and  last  a  minute, 
because  it  would  smash  against  the  trees.  And  even 
if  anybody  knew  where  we  were  they  could  n't  get 
to  us.  Even  if  the  strongest  men  in  town  tried  to  row 
a  boat  up-stream  from  below  the  Tow  Head  they 
could  n't  get  to  us,  because  they  could  n't  row 
among  the  trees  on  it.  So  I  cried. 

"Shut  up!"  Swatty  yelled  at  me,  "Ain't  it  bad 
enough  without  you  bellering?" 

So  there  we  were. 

When  Bony  saw  us  go  out  into  the  river  he  sat  on 
his  timber  with  his  mouth  open,  and  he  could  n't 
even  holler  —  he  was  so  scared  —  and  then  he  just 
paddled  for  shore  and  jumped  off  his  timber  and 
ran.  He  did  n't  know  where  he  was  running  —  he 
was  just  running  away  from  there.  He  was  scared 
stiff.  When  he  come  to,  he  was  halfway  home,  and 
blubbering  and  panting,  and  then  he  sat  down  on  a 
horse  block  and  did  n't  know  what  to  do.  He  thought 
we  were  drowned,  sure.  So  he  thought  the  best  thing 
to  do  would  be  to  not  say  anything  about  it.  He 
was  afraid.  First  he  thought  he  would  go  home  and 
act  as  if  he  had  been  at  school  and  just  stayed  out 
playing  a  while,  and  not  do  anything  else  about  it 
and  let  folks  find  out  any  way  they  could ;  and  then 
he  thought  that  Mrs.  Schwartz  would  miss  Swatty 
when  it  was  time  to  fetch  the  cow,  and  that  she 
would  come  over  to  his  house  to  see  if  Swatty  was 
there,  and  he  did  n't  know  what  else.  So  he  thought 

17 


SWATTY 

he  would  go  over  to  Swatty's  house  first  and  sort  of 
keep  Mrs.  Schwartz  from  doing  anything  like  that. 
So  he  went.  He  forgot  he  was  in  his  bare  feet,  or  that 
he  had  ever  had  shoes  and  stockings. 

When  he  got  to  Swatty's  house  Mrs.  Schwartz  was 
on  the  front  terrace  in  her  calico  dress  and  with  a 
birch  switch  in  her  hand,  looking  for  Swatty,  because 
Swatty  knew  what  time  the  cow  ought  to  be  fetched 
home.  Bony  went  up  to  the  steps. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  fetch  the  cow  home,  Mrs. 
Schwartz?"  he  asked. 

"What  for  should  you  fetch  the  cow  home?"  said 
Mrs.  Schwartz,  as  angry  as  could  be. 

"I  thought  maybe  Swatty  was  late,  and  I  did  n't 
want  to  keep  you  waiting,"  he  said. 

"For  why  should  you  think  he  was  late?"  Mrs. 
Schwartz  asked.  She  always  talked  in  a  funny  way, 
because  she  was  German. 

"I  thought  maybe  he  was  playing  down  at  the 
river,"  said  Bony.  "Lots  of  boys  were  playing  down 
there  to-day." 

"So!"  said  Mrs.  Schwartz.  "And  he  sends  you 
home  to  get  his  cow,  yes?  He  could  get  his  own  cows. 
I  wait  for  him." 

So  then  Bony  did  n't  know  what  to  say.  He  stood 
around.  And  after  a  while  he  said: 

"Maybe  he  won't  come  home  to  get  the  cows." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Schwartz. 

"Maybe  he's  drowned,"  said  Bony.  "Maybe  him 
and  Georgie  went  down  to  the  river  and  —  and  — " 
It 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

So  then  he  began  to  cry,  and  the  first  thing  any- 
body knew  he  had  me  and  Swatty  drowned  and  our 
bodies  floating  down  to  St.  Louis  or  New  Orleans, 
and  Mrs.  Schwartz  wringing  her  hands  and  hollering 
for  Herb.  So  Herb  come  out  on  the  porch,  and  Bony 
told  him  me  and  Swatty  had  floated  away  on  a 
bridge  timber  and  got  drowned,  and  Herb  got  Mr. 
Schwartz  out  of  the  house,  and  then  he  come  over  to 
my  house  to  tell  my  father,  and  my  father  and 
mother  and  Fan  and  all  the  Schwartzes  and  a  lot  of 
neighbors  all  went  running  down  to  the  levee,  and 
took  the  Bony  Highlander  with  them  to  show  them 
where  we  had  got  drowned  from.  So  that  was  why 
Bony  did  n't  go  home,  and  why  he  got  licked  when 
he  did  get  home. 

By  that  time  it  was  n't  dark  but  it  was  getting 
dark.  Me  and  Swatty  just  hung  onto  our  trees,  and 
that  was  all  we  could  do ;  but  all  our  folks  and  most 
everybody  in  town  got  down  to  the  levee,  because 
Tim  Mulligan  at  the  waterworks  pump-house  blew 
the  alarm  whistle.  The  firemen  all  came,  too,  with 
their  hose  carts  and  ladder  trucks,  but  most  of  the 
folks  just  went  around  saying  it  was  too  bad,  but 
that  it  was  hopeless.  Even  the  mayor  said  it  was 
hopeless.  You  see,  nobody  knew  we  were  on  Tow 
Head.  They  thought  we  were  drowned  in  the  river, 
like  Bony  said.  So  there  was  n't  anything  to  do,  be- 
cause it  was  too  hopeless  to  do  anything.  The  only 
thing  to  do  was  to  wait  until  the  river  fell,  in  a  couple 
of  weeks  or  so,  and  then  maybe  they  'd  find  what  was 

19 


SWATTY 

left  of  me  and  Swatty  down-river,  where  we'd  be 
washed  up,  if  we  ever  was. 

Well,  that  was  what  everybody  thought.  My 
mother  cried,  and  Mrs.  Schwartz  cried,  and  I  guess 
most  of  the  women  cried,  and  the  men  looked  mighty 
sober,  and  said  what  a  pity  it  was  so  hopeless;  but 
what  could  they  do?  Everybody  was  sober  or  crying, 
I  guess,  except  Fan,  and  I  guess  she'd  been  so  mad 
at  Herb  she  just  could  n't  be  anything  but  mad. 
She  was  so  full  of  mad  that  it  had  to  come  out,  so 
while  everybody  was  crying  and  all  she  just  flew  up 
in  the  air  and  went  over  and  gave  Herb  a  good 
raking. 

"Well!"  she  says.  "And  you  call  yourself  a  man! 
Do  you  mean  to  stand  around  here  like  a  bump  on  a 
log  and  do  nothing?"  she  says.  "I'm  glad  I  found 
out  in  time  what  a  helpless  ninny  you  are,"  or  some- 
thing like  that.  She  gave  it  to  him  good,  I  tell  you! 
"This  trash,"  she  says  —  meaning  the  mayor  and 
the  firemen  and  the  city  council  and  everybody  — 
"I  don't  expect  anything  else  from,  but  I  once 
thought  you  had  some  gump."  Or  something  like 
that.  So  Herb  got  red. 

"Very  well,"  he  says,  like  a  man  ready  to  jump 
off  the  high  school  roof,  "if  you  say  so,  I'll  take  a 
skiff  and  go  out  upon  the  river.  You  can't  call  me  a 
'fraid-cat,  Fan.  You'll  never  call  me  that."  Or 
something  like  that,  he  said. 

"Skiff  indeed!"  says  Fan.  "You'd  have  a  nice 
picnic  with  a  skiff,  would  n't  you?  Have  some  sense, 

20 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

Herbert  Schwartz.  What  good  is  that  ferryboat  do- 
ing, tied  up  here?" 

Well,  that  was  what  they  done.  At  first  Captain 
Hewitt  did  n't  want  to  take  the  ferryboat  out.  He 
said  it  was  hopeless,  and  that  she  was  an  old  rotten 
hull,  and  that  a  log  would  go  through  her  like  a 
needle,  and  she  'd  sink,  and  she  could  n't  make  head- 
way up-stream  against  such  a  flood,  and  a  lot  more, 
but  with  all  the  folks  in  town  there  he  could  n't  keep 
that  up  long;  so  he  went  aboard  and  fired  up,  and 
sent  up- town  for  Jerry  Mason,  who  was  the  regular 
fireman.  By  that  time  it  was  dark  enough  for  any- 
body, so  Mr.  Higgins,  the  steamboat  agent,  went 
and  got  the  two  flambeaux  he  uses  when  steamboats 
unload  at  night,  and  everybody  that  had  a  porch 
lantern  with  a  reflector  got  that,  and  they  put  them 
all  on  the  ferryboat.  Flambeaux  are  big  iron  baskets 
on  iron  poles,  and  the  poles  are  pointed  at  the  bot- 
tom so  they  can  be  jabbed  into  the  ground  or  a  floor 
or  anything.  You  fill  the  baskets  with  tar  and  wood 
and  light  them.  So  when  that  was  all  ready  most 
of  the  firemen  got  aboard  with  their  hooks,  off  the 
hook  and  ladder  trucks,  and  a  lot  of  other  men  got 
aboard  with  pike  poles  and  grapple  hooks,  and  Herb 
went  up  in  the  pilot  house  with  Captain  Hewitt,  and 
they  set  out  to  find  our  bodies. 

But  me  and  Swatty  was  n't  bodies  yet,  we  was 
still  folks.  We  were  feeling  a  little  bit  better,  too,  be- 
cause Swatty  found  out  that  the  tree  he  was  in  was 
a  slippery  elm  tree,  and  he  peeled  off  some  slippery 

21 


SWATTY 

elm  bark  and  chewed  it,  and  he  tossed  some  over  to 
me,  and  I  chewed  that.  So  we  wondered  how  long  a 
fellow  could  live  on  slippery  elm  bark,  and  if  Swatty 
would  have  the  tree  peeled  clean  before  the  river 
went  down.  If  he  did  we'd  starve  to  death;  but 
Swatty  said  that,  as  the  water  went  down,  more  and 
more  of  the  tree  trunk  would  be  above  water  and  we 
could  peel  it  and  eat  it.  So  we  both  felt  better,  only 
there  was  a  dead  something  had  caught  in  the  tree 
branches  and  when  the  wind  changed  it  did  n't  smell 
very  good.  It  smelled  worse  than  that,  even.  So 
about  then  we  began  to  see  the  lights  come  out  on 
shore,  and  pretty  soon  we  saw  the  big,  smoky  light 
the  flambeaux  made.  We  thought  it  was  a  bonfire 
on  shore  up  at  town. 

Well,  I  guess  we'd  have  been  bodies  before  any- 
body got  to  us,  anyway,  if  we  had  n't  had  some  bad 
luck.  Me  and  Swatty  was  there  in  our  trees  chewing 
away  at  slippery  elm  when  all  at  once  something  big 
and  black  come  slamming  down  onto  the  point  of  the 
Tow  Head.  It  looked  like  a  house,  but  I  guess  it  was 
only  a  cow  shed  or  something  like  that,  that  had 
got  floated  off  the  river  bottoms  by  the  flood.  It 
came  all  of  a  sudden,  and  before  we  knew  what  had 
happened  it  hit  the  Tow  Head  point  and  banged  into 
the  tree  I  was  on,  and  the  water  began  to  rush  over 
it,  and  then  all  at  once  the  tree  I  was  on  began  to 
give.  It  began  to  topple.  It  went  slow  at  first  and 
then  it  went  quicker,  and  it  fell  over  against  the  tree 
Swatty  was  in,  and  the  shed  came  bumping  after  it, 

22 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

and  then  Swatty's  tree  keeled  over,  too,  and  me  and 
Swatty  went  down  under,  and  the  shed  come  grating 
over  us  —  right  over  our  heads  and  pushing  our 
trees  down  into  the  water. 

All  I  ever  knew  was  that  the  next  thing  I  knew  I 
was  slammed  up  against  the  side  of  the  shed  by  the 
water  and  pushed  against  it  like  a  big  hand  was  push- 
ing me,  and  I  was  fighting  to  get  more  out  of  the 
water,  and  then  the  shed  sort  of  melted  and  went  to 
pieces  and  I  was  holding  onto  a  board  and  going 
down  with  the  current  between  the  trees  of  the  Tow 
Head.  Sometimes  the  board  hit  a  tree,  and  some- 
times it  did  n't,  but  I  thought  I  was  all  over  with, 
anyway,  and  then  right  ahead  of  me  I  saw  the  water 
rushing  and  roaring  up  against  something. 

I  did  n't  know  what  it  was,  but  it  was  a  log  raft 
the  mill  folks  had  put  in  behind  the  Tow  Head  so  it 
would  n't  get  washed  away.  It  was  in  the  inside  of 
the  horseshoe,  and  all  across  the  front  of  it  was 
driftwood  and  trash  and  old  boards  and  everything, 
and  that  was  what  the  water  was  splashing  against, 
and  before  I  knew  it  I  was  slammed  up  against  it  — 
me  and  my  board.  And  what  I  slammed  up  against 
was  the  bridge  timber  I  had  been  on  before,  or  one 
like  it.  If  I  had  slammed  up  against  where  it  was  just 
bark  and  driftwood  I  would  have  clawed  at  it  a 
while  and  then  gone  under,  I  guess;  but  I  crawled 
Dnto  the  timber  and  just  lay  there  and  tried  to  get 
the  water  out  of  my  nose.  It  looked  like  half  a  mile 
of  driftwood  was  jammed  in  between  me  and  the 

23 


SWATTY 

log  raft  —  jammed  in  and  pushed  together  the  way 
a  flood  can  jam  it  and  push  it. 

Well,  that  timber  was  n't  any  place  to  be.  The 
water  rushed  against  it  and  over  it,  so  I  was  getting 
ducked  all  the  time,  and  I  put  out  my  hand  and 
tried  the  drift  stuff,  but  it  did  n't  seem  like  it  would 
hold  me  up,  but  there  was  one  board  that  was  on 
top  of  the  stuff,  and  I  tried  that.  I  slid  over  onto 
it  and  it  seemed  all  right,  so  I  edged  along  it,  and 
when  I  got  to  the  end  of  the  board  the  drift  stuff 
seemed  firmer  and  I  got  on  my  stomach  and  edged 
out  onto  it.  It  was  firm  enough,  but  not  very  firm, 
but  on  my  stomach  that  way  I  covered  a  good  deal 
of  it  at  a  time,  and  I  sort  of  wiggled  along,  and  the 
more  I  wiggled  the  firmer  it  got.  It  had  to,  with  all 
the  river  pushing  it,  and  the  driftwood  back  of  it 
pushing  too. 

So  it  took  me  about  an  hour  to  get  to  the  log  raft, 
and  when  I  got  to  the  edge  logs,  that  are  chained 
together,  I  was  all  scratched  and  sore  and  I  just  sat 
down  and  cried,  because  I  knew  Swatty  was  dead. 
And  all  at  once  he  said,  "Hello,  Georgie! "  and  there 
he  was,  crawling  along  the  logs  toward  me.  He  said 
he  went  under  when  the  tree  fell  over,  and  that  he 
went  under  all  the  driftwood  and  come  up  through 
a  hole  in  the  raft.  Maybe  he  did.  There  were  holes 
enough  in  the  raft.  But  I  did  n't  get  there  that  way. 

Anyway,  there  he  was,  and  that  made  me  feel  a 
lot  better,  and  we  crawled  around  the  edge  of  the 
raft,  because  we  wanted  to  get  to  the  lower  side. 
24 


THE  BIG  RIVER 

Swatty  said  maybe  we  could  push  a  log  under  the 
outside  chain  of  logs  and  paddle  to  shore  on  it,  but 
I  was  n't  going  to  do  it.  Only  I  wanted  to  see  him 
do  it  if  he  did  it.  So  we  got  to  the  lower  edge  of  the 
raft,  where  it  stuck  out  below  the  Tow  Head,  and 
just  then  along  came  the  ferryboat.  She  was  back- 
paddling  and  going  as  slow  as  she  could,  and  she 
looked  like  an  excursion  with  all  the  porch  lamps  and 
the  flambeaux.  So  me  and  Swatty  hollered,  but  I 
guess  they  saw  us  before  we  hollered.  Everybody 
came  over  on  our  side  and  that  tipped  the  ferry  over 
a  little,  and  a  lot  of  the  men  threw  ropes  at  us  and 
held  out  their  pike  poles,  and  me  and  Swatty 
grabbed  them  and  they  yanked  us  aboard.  So 
then  she  whistled  five  times  and  waited  and  whistled 
five  times  again,  and  so  on,  because  that  was  the 
signal  they  was  to  make  if  they  found  our  bodies, 
and  they  had  found  them,  but  they  were  alive  yet. 
So  then  Herb  made  the  captain  whistle  long  and 
steady  without  stopping,  so  maybe  they  'd  know  we 
were  alive  yet.  But  nobody  knew  it,  because  nobody 
thought  we  would  be. 

Well,  the  old  ferry  let  out  so  much  steam  whistling 
she  couldn't  go  up-stream.  I  guess  she  couldn't 
anyway.  So  they  ran  her  into  the  shore  just  where 
she  was  and  tied  her  to  a  big  tree,  and  when  we  got 
to  the  road  there  was  Mother  and  Father  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Schwartz  in  a  livery  rig,  because  they  had 
followed  the  boat  all  the  way  down.  And  Fan  was  in 
the  rig,  too.  So  they  all  pawed  me  and  Swatty  over 
25 


SWATTY 

and  saw  how  bad  we  was  scratched  and  all,  and  said 
we  was  suffering  from  exhaustion,  but  we  was  n't. 
We  was  only  played  out. 

So  then  Herbert  said,  "All  right!"  and  started  to 
go  away,  and  Fan  said,  "Herbert!" 

"What  is  it?"  he  said. 

"I  want  you  to  ride  up-town  with  us,"  she  said. 

"No,"  he  said,  "I'll  go  back  and  help  Captain 
Hewitt  get  the  boat  in  shape.  I  guess  I've  done 
enough  to  show  you  I've  some  gump." 

"But  I  want  you  to  come,"  Fan  says.  "I  want  to 
talk  to  you." 

So  he  came.  Him  and  Fan  sat  on  the  front  seat 
and  drove  and  talked,  and  I  guess  their  talk  was  all 
right,  because  they  fixed  everything  up.  And  that 
was  where  Miss  Murphy  got  left.  Just  because  she 
wanted  to  lick  Swatty  she  lost  her  beau.  That's  why 
I  say  I  guess  if  teachers  always  knew  how  their  lick- 
ings were  going  to  turn  out  they  would  n't  lick  us 
fellows  so  much.  Not  when  the  fellow  is  the  brother 
of  their  beau,  anyway. 


II 

;  MAMIE'S  FATHER 

I  GUESS  this  is  a  good  time  to  tell  about  Mamie 
Little,  because  now  you  know  who  me  and  Swatty 
and  Bony  are.  Mamie  Little  was  my  girl,  only  she 
did  n't  know  it.  Nobody  knew  it  but  me.  It  was  a 
secret  I  had.  That's  the  way  a  fellow  has  a  girl  at 
first:  she's  a  secret  and  she  don't  know  she's  his  girl. 
Sometimes  she  don't  never  get  to  know  it  and  the 
fellow  has  to  get  another  girl.  But  while  he  "has" 
her  the  fellow  knows  it,  and  it  makes  him  feel  bash- 
ful and  uncomfortable  and  frightened  when  she  is 
near  by  and  it  is  pretty  bully. 

The  reason  I  picked  out  Mamie  Little  for  my  girl 
was  because  she  had  the  nicest  eyes  and  nicest  hair 
of  any  girl  I  ever  saw  and  the  way  she  swished  her 
dress  when  she  walked.  She  lived  across  the  street 
from  my  house  and^  mostly  played  with  my  sister 
Lucy.  So  when  I  played  with  Lucy  I  could  play  with 
Mamie  Little,  too,  and  nobody  would  think  it  was 
because  she  was  my  girl.  They  would  think  I  was 
just  playing  with  my  sister. 

Mamie  Little  had  been  my  girl  a  good  while  like 
that,  with  nobody  knowing  it  but  me,  and  I  guessed 
that  pretty  soon  it  would  be  time  for  me  to  fight 
Swatty  or  somebody  about  her  and  have  her  for  my 
real  girl,  if  she  did  n't  mind;  but  just  then  Toady 
27 


SWATTY 

Williams  came  to  town  and  he  picked  out  Mamie 
Little  to  be  his  girl  and  did  n't  care  who  knew  it. 
And  Mamie  Little  did  n't  care  who  knew  it. 

Toady  was  a  new  kid  in  town,  because  his  father 
had  come  to  Riverbank  to  start  a  store.  We  never 
said  Toady  could  be  one  of  our  crowd  and  we  never 
wanted  him  to  be,  but  he  just  joined  on  because  he 
felt  like  it.  That's  the  kind  of  boy  he  was.  He 
thought  anybody  would  be  tickled  to  death  to  have 
him  be  around  with  them.  He  was  n't  a  fat  boy,  but 
he  was  a  plump  one,  and  his  breeches  always  fit  him 
so  close  they  were  like  the  skin  on  a  horse;  when  he 
wrinkled  they  wrinkled.  He  wore  shoes  in  summer. 
He  looked  all  the  time  like  company  come  to  visit, 
and  I  guess  that  was  one  reason  we  did  n't  care  for 
him  much. 

The  reason  we  called  him  Toady  was  because  of 
his  eyes.  They  popped  out  like  a  frog's  eyes,  sort  of 
like  brown  marbles,  and  the  more  he  talked  the  more 
they  popped  out.  When  he  talked  he  could  n't  do 
anything  else  but  talk.  Swatty  could  lie  on  his  stom- 
ach and  chew  an  apple  and  play  mumblety-peg  and 
kick  a  hole  in  the  sod  with  one  toe  and  talk,  all  at  one 
time,  but  Toady  could  n't.  He  had  to  sit  up  straight 
and  pop  his  eyes  out.  When  he  got  started  talking 
you  could  cut  in  and  say,  "Was  your  grandmother 
a  monkey?"  and  he'd  say,  "Yes,"  as  if  he  had  n't 
heard,  and  go  right  on  talking.  He  would  n't  fight, 
like  me  and  Swatty,  and  sometimes  Bony,  would. 
If  you  thought  it  was  time  to  have  a  fight  with  him 
28 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

and  pitched  into  him  he  would  bend  down  and  turn 
his  back  and  let  you  mailer  him  until  you  got 
through.  But,  mostly,  he  would  talk  somehow  so 
you  would  n't  want  to  fight  him.  That's  no  way  for 
a  boy  to  talk.  It's  the  way  girls  talk.  Or  preachers. 

Toady  did  n't  get  Mamie  Little  for  his  girl  the 
right  way.  He  never  said  she  was  n't  his  girl,  he  just 
said  she  was.  The  right  way  is  that  when  the  other 
fellows  find  out  he  has  a  girl  they  holler  at  him: 
"Mamie  Little  is  Georgie's  girl!  Mamie  Little  is 
Georgie's  girl!"  And  he  has  to  get  mad  and  fight 
them  about  it  to  prove  it's  a  lie,  but  after  he  has 
fought  enough  to  prove  she  is  n't  his  girl,  why,  then 
she  is  his  girl  and  he  can  have  her  for  his  girl  and 
nobody  hollers  it  at  him.  So  then  she  is  the  one  he 
chooses  to  kiss  when  they  play  "Post-Office"  or 
"Copenhagen"  at  parties,  and  if  he's  got  anything 
to  give  her  he  gives  it  to  her,  like  snail  shells  or  a 
better  slate  pencil  than  she  has,  and  such  things. 
So  it's  pretty  nice,  and  you  feel  pretty  good  about 
it  and  are  glad  she's  your  girl. 

Well,  a  short  while  before  Toady  Williams  came 
to  our  town  they  had  an  election  to  see  whether  the 
state  was  to  be  prohibition  or  not,  and  all  the  school 
children  whose  fathers  were  prohibition  paraded; 
so  Mamie  Little  paraded  because  her  father  had  the 
prohibition  newspaper  in  Riverbank,  and  I  paraded 
because  Mamie  did  and  my  father  did  n't  care 
whether  there  was  prohibition  or  not.  Swatty  did  n't 
parade  because  his  father  was  a  German  tailor,  and 
29 


SWATTY 

when  he  felt  like  a  glass  of  beer  he  wanted  to  have 
it,  and  every  fall  Swatty's  mother  made  grape  wine 
out  of  wild  grapes  that  me  and  Swatty  got  from  the 
vines  in  the  bottom  across  the  Mississippi.  When 
they  had  the  election,  prohibition  was  elected  all 
over  the  state,  but  not  in  Riverbank;  but  we  had  to 
have  it  in  Riverbank  because  the  state  elected  it. 

Of  course  I  was  prohibition,  because  I  had  paraded 
and  because  Mamie  Little  was,  but  Swatty  was  anti- 
prohibition.  I  did  n't  say  a  thing  to  make  Swatty 
mad;  all  I  said  was:  "Huh!  You  thought  you  was  so 
smart,  did  n't  you?  You  thought  prohibition  was 
going  to  get  licked,  but  it  was  you  got  licked.  Next 
time  you  won't  be  so  smart.  I  guess  you  and  your 
father  feel  pretty  sick  about  it." 

"Don't  you  say  anything  about  my  father!" 
Swatty  said. 

"  I  '11  say  he  was  licked,  because  he  was  licked,"  I 
said. 

So  Swatty  pulled  off  his  coat  and  I  pulled  off 
mine,  and  we  had  a  good  fight.  He  licked  me  because 
he  always  did ;  and  when  he  was  sitting  on  my  ribs 
and  had  his  knees  on  my  arms  so  I  could  n't  do  any- 
thing, he  asked  me  if  I  had  had  enough,  and  I  said 
I  had.  Because  I  had  had. 

"I  guess  I  showed  you  how  much  the  prohibitions 
can  lick  the  anti-prohibitions!"  he  said. 

"Let  me  up,"  I  said. 

"Are  you  prohibition?"  he  asked. ! 

I  said,  "Yes,  I  am." 

30 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

"All  right!"  he  said,  and  he  put  his  hand  on  my 
nose  and  pushed.  He  pushed  my  nose  right  into  my 
face.  I  never  had  anything  hurt  like  that  did.  I 
yelled,  it  hurt  so  much.  I  told  him  to  stop. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  "if  I  stop  what  are  you?" 

I  knew  what  he  meant.  He  had  already  got  me 
from  being  a  Republican  to  being  a  Democrat  that 
way  once  before.  I  was  n't  thinking  of  Mamie  Little; 
I  was  thinking  of  my  nose.  So  I  said : 

"  I 'm  an  anti-prohibition.  Now  let  me  up.  You've 
busted  my  nose  and  some  of  my  ribs,  and  I  want 
to  put  some  plantain  on  my  eye  before  it  swells 
up." 

We  felt  of  my  ribs  and  could  n't  find  that  any 
seemed  busted,  and  my  nose  stopped  hurting  and 
came  back  into  shape,  so  me  and  Swatty  were  better 
friends  than  we  had  ever  been,  because  we  were 
now  both  anti-prohibitions.  We  went  around  and 
made  a  lot  of  prohibitions  into  anti-prohibitions  be- 
cause Swatty  showed  me  how  to  push  a  nose  the 
way  he  pushed  mine.  But  it  did  n't  do  much  good, 
I  guess.  The  election  was  over  and,  anyway,  there 
were  always  more  anti-prohibitions  in  Riverbank 
than  there  were  prohibitions. 

It  was  almost  right  away  after  that  that  me  and 
Swatty  and  Bony  met  Mamie  Little  and  Lucy  one 
Saturday  afternoon.  Lucy  is  my  sister,  and  they 
were  going  down-town.  Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony 
were  sitting  on  the  curb  telling  whoppers ;  or  I  guess 
Swatty  and  Bony  were,  I  was  just  telling  some  things 

31 


SWATTY 

that  had  happened  to  me  sometime  that  I  'd  forgot 
until  I  happened  to  think  them  up  just  then. 

Swatty  was  telling  how  he  went  up  to  Derlingport 
and  his  uncle  introduced  him  to  the  man  that  had 
the  government  job  of  making  up  new  swear  words, 
when  Mamie  and  Lucy  came  along.  I  said: 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"Down-town,"  Lucy  said. 

"Did  Mother  give  you  a  nickel?"  I  asked,  and  I 
was  sort  of  mad,  because  Mother  owed  me  a  nickel 
and  had  n't  paid  me,  because  she  said  she  did  n't 
have  one,  and  if  she  gave  one  to  Lucy,  why,  all  right 
for  Mother! 

"No,  she  did  n't  give  me  a  nickel,  Mr.  Smarty !" 
Lucy  said.  "If  you  want  to  know  so  much,  we're 
going  down  to  Mr.  Schwartz's  shop  to  see  if  he'll 
let  Mamie  have  a  father." 

I  guess  that  would  sound  pretty  funny  if  you 
did  n't  know  what  she  meant.  It  was  paper  dolls. 

Girls  always  play  paper  dolls,  I  guess;  so  Mamie 
and  Lucy  and  all  the  girls  played  them;  they  got 
them  out  of  the  colored  fashion  plates  in  the  maga- 
zines —  brides  and  mothers  and  sons  and  daughters. 

The  trouble  was  that  a  good  family  has  to  have 
anyway  one  father  in  it,  and  the  magazines  did  n't 
have  colored  fashion  plates  of  fathers.  They  did  n't 
have  any  fathers  at  all. 

Some  of  the  girls  drew  fathers  on  paper  and 
painted  them,  but  they  looked  pretty  sick.  I  guess 
all  the  girls  were  jealous  of  Lucy  because  she  was 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

kind  of  Swatty's  girl,  and  Swatty  sort  of  borrowed 
an  old  colored  tailor  fashion  plate  out  of  his  father's 
store  and  gave  it  to  Lucy.  So  Lucy  had  the  only  real 
fathers  that  any  of  the  girls  had.  She  gave  Mamie  a 
couple  of  fathers  out  of  the  fashion  plate,  but  they 
were  the  ones  that  had  been  standing  partly  behind 
other  fathers  and  had  mostly  only  one  leg,  or  pieces 
cut  out  of  their  sides  or  something.  They  did  n't 
make  Mamie  real  happy,  I  guess,  so  she  thought 
she  'd  try  to  get  some  good  fathers.  They  were  going 
down  to  ask  Mr.  Schwartz  for  a  fashion  plate. 

Swatty  was  frightened  right  away,  because  he 
had  n't  asked  his  father  if  he  could  have  the  old 
fashion  plate  but  had  just  sort  of  borrowed  it.  So 
he  said: 

"What  are  you  going  to  ask  my  father?" 

"I'm  going  to  tell  him  he  gave  you  one  for  me," 
Lucy  said,  "and  I'm  going  to  ask  him  if  he'll  give 
me  one  for  Mamie." 

So  then  Swatty  was  scared. 

"No,  don't  do  it!  "he  said. 

"I  will,  too,  do  it!"  Lucy  answered  back.  "I  guess 
I  know  your  father,  and  I  guess  my  father  -buys 
clothes  of  him,  and  I  guess  we  take  milk  of  your 
mother,  and  I  guess  I  will,  too,  ask  him  if  I  want  to! " 

Well,  Swatty  could  n't  answer  back  because  he 
had  Lucy  for  his  secret  girl  like  I  had  Mamie  Little. 
So  I  got  up  and  stood  in  front  of  Lucy  and  pushed 
her  a  little,  because  she  was  n't  my  girl  but  only 
my  sister,  and  I  said: 

33 


SWATTY 

"You  will  not  do  it.  You  go  home!" 

"  You  stop  pushing  me!  I  won't  go  home." 

"Yes,  you  will,  when  I  say  so!"  I  said. 

I  was  going  to  tell  her  that  as  soon  as  there  were 
any  more  old  fashion  plates  at  Swatty's  father's, 
Swatty  would  swi —  would  get  one  for  Mamie,  but 
Lucy  got  mad  because  I  just  took  hold  of  her  arm 
too  hard  between  my  thumb  and  finger.  She  said  I 
pinched  her,  but  I  did  not;  I  just  sort  of  took  hold 
of  her  that  way.  She  ran  back  a  way  and  stuck  out 
her  tongue  at  me. 

"Now,  just  for  that,  Mr.  Smarty,"  she  yelled, 
"I'm  going  to  tell  Mamie  on  you!" 

"You  just  dare ! "  I  started  for  her,  but  she  skipped 
off. 

"  Mamie,"  she  shouted,  "you'll  be  mad  when  I 
tell  you!  Georgie  Porgie  is  an  anti-prohibition! " 

Mamie  just  stood  and  looked  at  me,  because  I'd 
said  I  'd  always  be  a  prohibition. 

"Are  you?"  she  asked. 

If  Swatty  had  n't  been  right  there  I  would  have 
changed  back  to  a  prohibition  again  and  it  would 
have  been  all  right,  but  he  was  there  and  I  was  n't 
going  to  have  him  think  I  would  change  just  on 
account  of  a  girl.  So  I  said: 

"Uh,  huh!" 

"All  right  for  you,  Mr.  Georgie!  You  needn't 
ever  speak  to  me  again  as  long  as  you  live ! "  she  said. 

I  felt  pretty  cheap.  I  tried  to  say  something,  and 
I  could  n't  think  of  anything  to  say,  so  I  made  a  face 

34 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

at  her  and  she  made  one  at  me,  and  then  we  were 
mad  at  each  other  and  she  went  away.  She  went 
toward  down-town,  and  Lucy  skipped  across  the 
street  and  ran  and  went  with  her.  And  that  was  one 
reason  Mamie  was  glad  that  Toady  Williams  had 
her  for  his  girl  when  he  came  to  town.  She  guessed 
I  did  not  like  it.  And  I  did  n't. 

Mr.  Schwartz  said  Mamie  could  have  the  fashion 
plate  as  soon  as  he  was  through  with  it,  which  would 
be  at  the  end  of  the  season  when  he  got  a  new  one. 
Lucy  let  me  know  that,  all  right !  I  guess  it  was  on 
account  of  Lucy  he  promised  to  let  Mamie  have 
the  fashion  plate,  because  he  was  awful  fond  of 
Lucy. 

Anyway,  Mamie  was  mighty  pleased  to  know  she 
was  going  to  have  a  good  father. 

When  she  played  paper  dolls  with  Lucy  I  used  to 
sort  of  go  over  where  they  were  and  maybe  stand 
there  to  see  if  Mamie  was  mad  at  me  still.  About  all 
she  said  was  how  glad  she  'd  be  when  she  had  a  good 
father.  I  guess  I  heard  her  say  it  a  hundred  times, 
but  she  never  let  on  she  knew  I  was  there  at  all. 
Sometimes  I  'd  sort  of  drop  an  apple  or  something 
so  it  would  fall  where  she  could  reach  it,  but  she 
never  paid  any  attention.  The  most  she  would  do 
would  be  to  pick  up  a  one-legged  father  and  say: 

"'Where  are  you  going,  Mr.  Reginald  de  Vere?' 
'  I  'm  going  down-town  to  vote  a  while  if  you  do  not 
need  me  to  take  care  of  the  baby.'  'Not  at  all,  but  I 
do  hope  you  will  show  folks  you  are  a  prohibition. 

35 


SWATTY 

If  I  ever  heard  you  were  an  anti-prohibition  I  would 
cut  you  up  into  mincemeat.' " 

So  then  I  most  generally  went  away. 

I  got  kind  of  sick  of  girls.  I  made  up  my  mind 
they  were  no  good  anyway,  and  that  I  'd  never  have 
another  one  if  I  lived  to  be  a  million  years  old,  and 
when  I  wrote  notes  to  Mamie  in  school  it  was  n't 
any  use  because  she  always  tore  them  up  without 
reading  them.  It  made  me  feel  awful  to  have  her  so 
mean.  Because  she  was  n't  mean  to  Toady. 

Well,  it  came  to  examination  time  and  we  began 
to  be  examined.  Swatty  and  Bony  and  I  did  n't 
have  to  be  examined  in  arithmetic  until  Thursday 
afternoon  and  neither  did  Lucy  or  Mamie,  so  Swatty 
and  Bony  and  I  thought  we  might  as  well  go  fishing 
that  morning.  We  got  our  poles  and  some  bait  and 
started,  and  we  went  down  Third  Street  and  when 
we  came  to  the  railway  track  we  cut  across  through 
Burman's  lumber  yard  toward  the  river  because  that 
was  the  quickest  way. 

Burman's  sawmill  was  the  biggest  one  in  River- 
bank  then.  I  guess  you  know  how  big  those  sawmills 
were.  Great  big  red  buildings  with  gravel  roofs  where 
they  sawed  the  logs  that  came  down  the  river  in 
rafts,  and  where  they  made  shingles,  and  the  row 
of  sheds  where  they  dried  the  lumber  with  steam, 
and  another  big  one  where  the  planers  were.  There 
were  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  piles  of  lumber,  each 
one  as  tall  as  a  house,  and  all  the  ground  was  made 
of  sawdust  and  rattlings,  because  it  was  filled  ground. 
36 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

There  were  railway  sidings  here,  and  there  were 
flat  cars  and  box  cars  being  loaded. 

Burman's  sawmill  and  lumber  yards  were  just 
under  the  bluff.  Once  there  had  been  a  brickyard 
there,  and  the  bluff  was  cut  down  steep  where  they 
had  dug  clay.  Across  the  street  there  was  still  a 
brickyard,  with  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  cords  of 
wood,  ready  to  be  used  to  burn  brick,  and  with  the 
kilns  loosely  roofed  over.  Back  toward  the  town  was 
a  sash  and  door  factory,  a  pretty  big  building,  and 
then  some  houses,  and  then  the  stores  began.  About 
the  fifth  store  on  one  side  was  Swatty's  father's 
tailor  shop.  It  was  a  building  all  by  itself,  and  it 
was  one  story  high  and  frame,  and  it  had  a  false 
front  above  the  first  story,  with  Swatty's  father's 
name  on  it,  and  there  was  one  window  on  the 
street. 

Well,  Swatty  and  Bony  and  me  went  through  the 
lumber  yard  to  the  place  where  Burman's  oil  shed 
was. 

The  oil  shed  was  right  up  against  the  bluff,  almost 
at  the  railway,  and  it  was  up  on  stakes,  so  that  it 
was  safer.  It  was  about  as  big  as  a  kitchen,  and  was 
painted  red  and  the  floor  and  part  of  the  sides  and 
part  of  the  stakes  were  soaked  with  oil,  and  the 
grass  underneath  was  withered  and  oily  because  the 
oil  had  dripped  and  killed  it. 

Just  as  we  got  there  we  saw  Slim  Finnegan,  who 
was  in  our  class  at  school  but  ever  so  much  older  than 
we  were,  and  he  was  under  the  oil  shed  smoking  a 

37 


SWATTY 

corncob  pipe.  His  coat  was  on  the  grass  beside  him, 
and  just  as  we  got  there  he  jumped  up  and  began 
slamming  at  the  grass  with  his  coat,  for  the  grass 
was  afire.  Before  we  could  guess  what  happened,  the 
flames  seemed  to  run  up  the  stakes  like  live  animals, 
and  all  at  once  the  whole  bottom  of  the  floor  of  the 
oil  shed  was  afire. 

Slim  Finnegan  gave  one  look  at  it,  and  tucked  his 
coat  under  his  arm  and  ran.  There  were  piles  and 
piles  of  lumber  right  there  and  he  jumped  in  among 
them,  and  I  guess  he  hid.  We  did  n't  see  him  any 
more. 

Swatty  ran  for  the  sawmill.  He  shouted  to  the 
first  man  he  saw  before  he  was  halfway  to  the  saw- 
mill, and  the  man  hollered  "Fire!"  and  ran  for  a 
hose  wagon  they  had  under  a  shed  and  began  jerking 
it  out,  and  Swatty  ran  on,  shouting  "Fire!" 

It  was  n't  a  second  before  all  the  men  began  piling 
out  of  the  sawmill  and  came  running  from  the  lum- 
ber yards,  and  the  mill  whistle  began  blowing  as 
hard  as  it  could.  It  almost  made  you  deaf  when  you 
were  that  close.  Right  away  the  whole  place  seemed 
to  fill  up  with  men,  and  they  all  had  axes  or  hooks 
or  whatever  they  ought  to  have  had. 

The  mill  whistle  kept  blowing  without  stopping, 
and  in  a  minute  the  whistle  on  the  sash  and  door 
factory  joined  in,  and  then  the  regular  fire  whistle 
on  the  waterworks  started  up.  The  oil  house  was 
just  one  big  red  flame  that  went  up  in  the  air  and 
turned  into  the  blackest  kind  of  smoke.  We  saw  the 

38 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

men  with  the  mill's  hose  trying  to  throw  water  on 
the  oil  house,  and  every  one  was  shouting  at  the  tops 
of  their  voices.  We  saw  men  on  top  of  the  nearest 
lumber  piles,  but  almost  as  soon  as  we  saw  them 
we  saw  them  dodge  away  and  climb  down  as  quick 
as  they  could,  and  the  next  minute  those  lumber 
piles  were  afire  on  one  side.  They  were  red  flames, 
and  they  climbed  right  up  the  sides  of  the  piles  and 
waved  at  the  top. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  kept  backing  down  the 
railway  track  as  the  fire  got  too  hot  for  us.  There 
were  hundreds  of  people,  but  there  were  more  than 
that  in  other  parts  of  the  neighborhood.  Almost 
everybody  in  town  came  to  the  fire,  because  by  this 
time  dozens  of  lumber  piles  were  afire,  and  the  saw- 
mill had  set  fire  to  the  dry-sheds  and  the  planer. 
You  could  n't  see  the  bluff  at  all,  because  there  was 
just  one  big  wall  of  flame  in  front  of  it.  Whole  boards 
went  sailing  right  up  into  the  air,  burning  as  they 
went,  and  the  blue  smoke  that  blew  over  the  town 
was  full  of  pine  cinders  and  burning  pieces  of  wood. 
There  never  was  such  a  fire  in  Riverbank.  The 
ground  seemed  to  burn,  too,  and  it  did,  because  it 
was  sawdust  and  rattlings. 

The  brickyard  burned  —  everything  that  could 
burn  —  and  the  bluff  of  yellow  clay,  there  and  beside 
the  sawmill,  was  burned  red,  like  brick  —  and  the 
flat  cars  and  the  box  cars  all  burned.  It  was  an  awful 
fire!  Wet  lumber  in  the  newest  piles  burned  as  if  it 
was  dry.  The  railway  bridge  and  two  other  bridges 

39 


SWATTY 

burned.  At  noon  it  was  like  evening,  because  the 
smoke  hid  the  sun. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  kept  backing  away  as 
the  fire  came  toward  us.  Sometimes  we  would  turn 
and  run.  We  backed  away  as  far  as  ten  city  blocks 
would  be,  I  guess,  before  we  were  where  we  did  not 
have  to  back  away  any  more.  We  forgot  all  about 
school,  and  about  fishing,  and  about  everything. 
It  was  the  kind  of  fire  where  nobody  thinks  of  going 
home  until  it  is  all  over. 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  when  the  people  in  front 
and  the  firemen  in  front  of  them  gave  a  sort  of  roar, 
as  if  they  were  a  lot  of  animals,  and  everybody 
crowded  back.  The  firemen  on  top  of  the  sash  and 
door  factory  ran  from  one  edge  of  the  roof  to  the 
other,  looking  down.  Two  of  them  jumped  off.  They 
were  killed,  but  the  others  got  down  the  ladders, 
and  the  next  minute  the  factory  and  its  oil  house 
were  all  afire  at  once  —  just  sort  of  spouted  fire 
from  all  the  windows  as  if  the  fire  had  been  all  fixed 
to  break  out  that  way. 

Before  you  could  turn  around  and  then  look  back, 
the  sash  and  door  factory  was  one  big,  hot  flame, 
and  then  the  houses  began  to  go.  First  one  and  then 
another  caught  fire. 

We  got  crowded  back  until  we  were  in  the  street 
right  opposite  to  Swatty 's  father's  tailor  shop,  and 
Swatty 's  father  was  on  the  front  step  of  it  shaking 
his  hands  in  the  air  and  shouting  like  a  crazy  man, 
but  nobody  paid  any  attention  to  him.  He  was  a 
40 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

little  man  and  he  had  gray  hair,  but  he  was  mostly 
bald.  He  did  n't  have  a  hat  on  and  he  looked  pretty 
crazy  standing  there  and  shouting. 

Well,  we  did  n't  know  until  afterward  what  he 
was  shouting  about,  but  I  know  now,  so  I  might  as 
well  tell  it.  There  was  a  cellar  under  his  shop  and  it 
was  full  of  barrels  of  whiskey.  When  prohibition  was 
elected  the  saloons  thought  they  would  have  to 
stop  for  a  while  and  that  then  they  could  go  ahead 
again,  so  they  hunted  for  some  place  to  hide  the 
whiskey  they  owned,  where  it  would  be  safe  for  a 
while,  and.Mr.  Schwartz's  cellar  was  one  of  the  places 
they  hid  it  in.  What  Swatty's  father  was  trying  to 
shout  was  that  if  his  shop  caught  fire  all  the  whiskey 
in  the  cellar  might  explode  and  the  people  standing 
around  might  be  killed  and  the  whole  town  burn  up. 
I  don't  wonder  he  was  sort  of  crazy  about  it.  I  guess 
Swatty  felt  sort  of  ashamed  that  his  father  was 
acting  so  crazy. 

So  then  the  house  next  to  Swatty's  father's  shop 
caught  fire,  and  the  next  minute  the  side  of  Swatty's 
father's  shop  began  to  smoke. 

The  policemen  were  sort  of  crowding  us  back  all 
the  time,  but  we  would  n't  go  back  much,  and  all 
at  once  Mamie  Little  started  out  of  the  crowd  and 
began  to  run  toward  Swatty's  father's  shop.  But 
when  she  was  halfway  there  the  fire  marshal  just 
caught  her  by  the  arm  and  gave  her  a  sort  of  twist 
and  slung  her  back,  and  then  the  policeman  nearest 
us  caught  her  and  jammed  her  back  against  me  and 


SWATTY 

Swatty.  She  was  crying  all  the  time;  she  kept 
moaning,  "My  father!  My  father!" 

So  just  then  Swatty 's  father  ran  out  and  grabbed 
the  fire  marshal  by  the  arm  and  talked  to  him  in 
German,  because  they  were  both  German,  and  the 
fire  marshal  ran  toward  his  firemen  and  shouted 
through  his  trumpet,  and  all  the  firemen  up  the 
street  came  running  back,  dragging  all  their  hose 
and  all  shouting. 

It  was  all  wild  and  sort  of  crazy,  and  suddenly 
the  fire  marshal  ran  back  to  where  the  firemen  were 
tugging  at  the  heavy  hose  and  shouting,  and  four 
firemen  who  were  holding  on  to  a  nozzle  pointed  the 
stream  into  the  air.  It  was  worse  than  any  rain  you 
ever  saw.  It  was  just  "whoosh!"  and  we  were  all 
soaked.  So  all  the  crowd  hollered  and  screamed,  and 
we  all  turned  and  ran,  and  all  I  knew  was  that  I  had 
hold  of  Mamie  Little's  hand  and  was  helping  her 
run.  I  was  awful  sorry  for  her  because  she  was  crying 
and  her  father  was  going  to  burn. 

So  Swatty  said:  "What's  she  crying  for?  Why 
don't  she  shut  up?" 

He  meant  Mamie  Little.  So  I  said : 

"She  can  cry  if  she  wants  to!  I'd  like  to  see  you 
try  to  stop  her!  She's  crying  because  your  father 
gave  her  his  fashion  plate  and  it's  going  to  be 
burned  up,  and  if  you  say  much  I  '11  lick  you!" 

So  Swatty  said:  "If  that's  all  she's  crying  for, 
come  on.  We'll  get  her  old  fashion  plate  for  her." 

So  I  said  to  Mamie  Little:  "Stop  being  a  baby 
42 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

and  shut  up,  and  we'll  get  your  old  fashion  plate 
for  you." 

Swatty  just  cut  in  through  the  crowd,  and  me 
and  Bony  followed  after  him.  He  went  up  the  side 
street,  and  we  climbed  over  the  fence  into  the  yard 
of  the  corner  house  and  cut  across  that  yard  and 
over  another  fence.  That  way  we  got  to  the  back  of 
Swatty 's  father's  shop  without  any  one  stopping  us. 
Bony  kind  of  kept  behind  us. 

It  was  mighty  hot,  because  the  house  next  door 
was  all  afire,  but  the  firemen  were  keeping  all  their 
hose  on  the  side  of  Swatty's  father's  shop,  trying  to 
keep  it  from  burning.  We  crouched  down  and  kept 
our  backs  to  the  fire  so  the  heat  would  n't  shrivel  us, 
and  we  got  to  the  back  door  and  it  was  n't  locked. 
We  went  in.  It  was  hot  —  like  an  oven  —  inside, 
and  the  noise  of  all  the  water  on  the  side  of  the 
house  was  like  thunder,  only  louder.  The  inside  of 
the  shop  was  like  under  a  waterfall.  You  would  n't 
think  anything  so  wet  could  burn,  but  it  did.  Before 
we  were  halfway  to  the  front  window  the  fire  began 
to  eat  into  the  shop  along  the  floor.  The  water  on 
that  side  just  turned  to  steam  and  dried  as  fast  as 
it  ran  down. 

Bony  began  to  cry,  but  we  had  n't  any  time  to 
stop.  Swatty  took  him  by  the  hand  and  jerked  him 
along,  and  we  got  to  the  window  and  I  grabbed  the 
fashion  plate.  Then  we  could  n't  go  back  because 
the  shop  was  mostly  afire  and  we  would  have  been 
burned  up.  So  then^Bony  got  real  scared  and  ran 
43 


SWATTY 

to  the  front  door  and  threw  it  open,  and  a  stream 
from  a  hose  caught  him  and  sent  him  head  over  heels 
back  into  the  shop  where  it  was  burning;  he  was 
knocked  unconscious  because  his  head  hit  a  table 
leg. 

So  I  did  n't  know  what  to  do.  I  guess  I  began  to 
cry.  I  crouched  down  in  the  window  because  I 
could  n't  get  out  at  the  door  on  account  of  the 
stream  of  water  that  was  coming  in  there  a  hundred 
miles  a  minute,  and  I  could  n't  go  back  because  the 
back  of  the  shop  was  all  afire  now.  But  Swatty 
crawled  on  his  hands  and  knees  under  the  table  where 
Bony  was,  where  the  fire  was  beginning  to  burn 
harder,  and  he  grabbed  Bony  and  yanked  him  along 
the  floor  back  to  the  window.  I  guess  I  helped  him 
jerk  Bony  onto  the  window  shelf,  but  just  then 
another  stream  of  water  busted  the  window  in. 
The  glass  fell  all  around  us  and  one  piece  cut 
Swatty  on  the  hand,  but  he  only  said,  "Jump! 
Jump!" 

Maybe  we  would  have  jumped,  but  we  did  n't. 
The  firemen  had  got  to  the  back  of  the  building  and 
had  turned  the  hose  in  at  the  back  window,  and  just 
when  Swatty  said,  "Jump!"  the  stream  of  water  hit 
us  like  a  board.  It  took  us  as  if  we  were  pieces  of 
paper  and  slammed  us  out  of  the  broken  window 
and  halfway  across  the  street,  and  threw  us  head 
over  heels  in  the  mud,  and  the  fashion  plate,  with 
Mamie  Little's  father,  came  flying  with  us. 

So  I  crawled  over  to  where  the  fashion  plate  was 

44 


MAMIE'S  FATHER 

and  took  hold  of  it  and  began  to  drag  it  to  where 
Mamie  Little  was.  A  policeman  came  and  took  me 
by  the  shoulder  and  lifted  me  up,  but  I  could  n't 
stand,  and  that  was  the  first  I  knew  my  ankle  was 
sprained.  But  Swatty  got  up  himself  and  sassed  the 
policeman  that  came  to  get  him.  He  told  him  he  had 
a  right  to  go  into  his  father's  own  shop  if  he  wanted 
to,  and  that  if  the  policeman  said  much  more  he 
would  go  back  again. 

I  guess  the  whiskey  exploded  all  right.  Three  more 
houses  burned  before  they  stopped  the  fire,  but  we 
did  n't  see  that  because  Bony  ran  all  the  way  home, 
and  somebody  carried  me  to  a  wagon,  and  drove 
home  with  me,  and  Swatty's  father  got  him  and 
took  him  up  the  main  street  and  waled  him  on 
the  hotel  corner  with  a  half-burned  shingle  that  had 
blown  from  the  lumber  fire. 

The  next  day  my  ankle  hurt  pretty  bad  and  I 
stayed  in  bed  with  linament  on  it  and  after  school 
Lucy  came  up  to  see  me.  "Come  on  up  in  my  room 
and  play,"  I  told  her. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  don't  want  to.  I  want  to  go 
down  and  play  with  Mamie  Little;  we're  playing 
paper  dolls.  We're  having  lots  of  fun." 

"Ho!"  I  said.  "Paper  dolls!  They're  no  fun." 

"They  are,  too,"  Lucy  said.  "And  we've  got  to 
cut  out  Mamie's  fathers.  She's  got  a  whole  fashion 
plate  full." 

" Where 'd  she  get  them?"  I  asked,  because  I 
guessed  right  away  what  fashion  plate  it  was. 
45 


SWATTY 

"Why,  Toady  Williams  gave  them  to  her,"  Lucy 
said.  "He  got  them  out  of  the  fire  or  somewhere 
and  gave  them  to  her.  He's  helping  us  cut  them 
out." 

Gee!  I  felt  sore! 


Ill 

THE  "DIVORCE" 

AFTER  I  got  out  of  bed  and  went  back  to  school  I 
fought  Toady  Williams  a  couple  of  times,  but  it 
was  n't  much  good  because  he  would  n't  fight  back. 
All  the  good  it  did  was  to  make  Mamie  Little  tell 
Lucy  I  was  a  mean,  bad  boy  and  that  she  would 
never  speak  to  me  again  as  long  as  she  lived.  Once 
I  almost  told  her  that  it  was  me  that  got  the  father 
fashion  plate  out  of  the  fire  and  that  Toady  Williams 
did  n't  do  anything  but  pick  it  up  out  of  the  mud 
after  I  had  got  it  for  her,  but  I  did  n't  tell  her  be- 
cause then  she  would  have  thought  I  was  sweet  on 
her.  That  would  have  made  me  feel  cheap. 

It  made  me  feel  pretty  mean,  just  the  same,  to 
see  the  way  Toady  Williams  was  playing  with  her 
all  the  time,  when  I  had  picked  her  out  to  be  my 
secret  girl.  He  gave  her  pencils  and  apples  and 
everything  and  I  guess  she  liked  it.  I  wished  I  was 
grown  up,  so  I  could  ride  up  on  a  bucking  bronco  and 
sling  a  lasso  over  Toady's  head  and  jerk  him  into 
the  dust.  Then  Mamie  Little  would  say,  "Hello, 
Georgie !  Can  I  get  up  and  ride  behind  you  over  the 
wild  plains,  because  I  don't  want  to  have  anything 
more  to  do  with  a  'fraidy-cat  like  Toady." 

But  it  did  n't  seem  as  if  anything  like  that  was 
going  to  happen.  Not  for  years,  anyway. 

47 


SWATTY 

One  day  Swatty  came  over  to  my  yard  and  he 
said,  "Say!"  so  I  said,  "Say  what?"  and  he  said, 
"Say,  you  know  Herb's  tricycle?"  and  I  said  I  did. 
Herb  was  Swatty's  brother  that  wanted  to  marry 
my  sister  Fan  and  he  had  got  the  tricycle  a  couple 
of  years  ago,  when  all  the  bicycles  were  high-wheel 
bicycles.  He  had  got  it  for  him  and  Fan  to  ride  on, 
and  it  was  a  two-seat  one  —  side-by-side  seats  — 
and  after  a  few  times  Fan  would  n't  ride  on  it  be- 
cause it  made  her  as  conspicuous  as  a  pig  on  a  flag- 
pole. So  Herb  rode  on  it  alone  some,  and  with  some 
other  fellow  some,  but  mostly  he  kept  it  chained  up 
in  Swatty's  barn  and  said  he  would  scalp  Swatty 
and  skin  him  alive  if  Swatty  ever  touched  it. 

So  this  day  Swatty  came  over  and  he  said,  "What 
do  you  think!"  because  Herb  said  when  he  was 
married  to  Fan,  Swatty  could  have  the  tricycle.  You 
bet  Swatty  was  tickled.  So  I  asked  him  who  would 
ride  on  it  with  him. 

"Well  — you  will,"  he  said.  "And  Bony.  That's 
when  I  ain't  taking  somebody  else." 

He  did  n't  say  who  else,  but  I  knew,  because  I 
knew  Swatty  was  having  my  sister  Lucy  for  his 
secret  girl. 

"And  part  of  the  time,"  I  said,  "I  can  have  it 
alone,  can't  I,  Swatty?" 

"It's  my  tricycle  — "  he  started  to  say. 

"It  ain't  yet,"  I  told  him,  "  and  I  guess  if  I  go  to 
work  good  and  plenty  it  never  will  be,  because  if  I 
want  to  I  can  think  up  how  to  make  Fan  mad  at 
48. 


THE  DIVORCE 

Herb  again  and  then  you  would  n't  get  it.  And,  any- 
way, if  Lucy  went  to  ride  on  it  she  might  fall  off 
and  get  hurt,  so  I  guess  I  'd  tell  my  mother  not  to 
let  Lucy  ride  on  it.  Unless  I  could  take  it  sometimes 
and  find  out  that  it  was  safe." 

Because  I  guessed  that  if  Mamie  Little  had  a 
chance  to  ride  on  that  tricycle  with  me  she'd  be 
pretty  sick  of  that  fat,  old  Toady  Williams  mighty 
quick.  So  me  and  Swatty  fixed  it  up  that  way,  that 
I  was  to  have  the  tricycle  part  of  the  time  and  he 
was  to  have  it  part  of  the  time.  The  only  thing  was 
to  get  Herb  and  Fan  married  off  as  soon  as  we  could, 
and  to  look  out  that  nothing  turned  up  to  scare 
them  away  from  each  other  again  like  that  Miss 
Murphy  fuss  did.  It  was  n't  going  to  take  much  to 
scare  Herb  away.  I  knew  that. 

Well,  I  guess  grown  folks  don't  care  whether  they 
have  a  divorce  or  not,  because  they  are  always  hav- 
ing them  and  so  maybe  they  get  used  to  having  them 
and  don't  think  much  about  it  and  are  not  ashamed 
to  have  them,  but  I  guess  a  kid  is  always  kind  of 
ashamed  when  his  folks  get  them.  We  never  had  one 
in  our  family  but  we  had  babies  and  I  guess  a  kid 
feels  about  the  same  way  when  there  is  a  divorce  in 
his  family  as  he  does  when  there  is  a  baby.  It  makes 
him  feel  pretty  sick  and  ashamed  and  miserable.  It 
ain't  his  fault  but  he  feels  like  it  was.  He  goes  out 
the  back  gate  and  sneaks  to  school  through  the  alley 
and  when  a  kid  sees  him  the  kid  says:  "Ho!  you  had 
a  baby  at  your  house,"  and  the  kid  that  had  the 
49 


SWATTY 

baby  come  to  his  house  wishes  he  could  sneak  into 
a  crack  in  the  sidewalk  or  die  or  something. 

I  guess  that's  the  way  it  is  when  you  have  a 
divorce  at  your  house.  It  ain't  your  fault  but  you 
feel  like  it  was  and  you  don't  have  any  of  the  fun 
of  fighting  and  getting  the  divorce,  like  your  folks 
do;  you  just  have  the  feel-miserable  part. 

So  one  day  about  when  the  river  began  to  fall 
again,  only  it  was  still  mighty  high,  me  and  Swatty 
and  Bony  went  up  to  Bony's  room  in  Bony's  house. 
It  was  muddy  weather,  in  June,  and  I  guess  we  had 
been  wading  in  the  mud  or  something  so  we  knew 
Bony's  mother  would  n't  let  us  go  upstairs  to  his 
room  unless  we  washed  our  feet  first,  unless  we 
sneaked  it.  So  we  sneaked  it. 

The  reason  we  went  up  was  so  Bony  could  prove 
it  that  the  Victor  bicycle  his  father  might  maybe 
buy  for  him  weighed  only  forty-five  pounds.  He  had 
a  catalogue  to  prove  it  with  but  it  was  up  in  his 
room,  so  we  went  up  to  get  it.  It  proved  it,  all  right. 
Swatty  said  that  was  pretty  light  for  a  bicycle  to 
weigh,  and  I  said  it,  too.  So  then  we  said  a  lot  of 
more  things  about  a  lot  of  other  things  but  mostly 
we  talked  about  the  bicycle,  because  Bony  was  going 
to  let  me  and  Swatty  learn  to  ride  on  it  if  he  got  it. 
Swatty  bet  he  could  get  right  on  it  and  ride  right 
off  as  slick  as  a  whistle  because  he  had  an  uncle  in 
Derlingport  that  had  a  dozen  bicycles.  So  then  Bony 
said  he'd  like  to  know  why,  if  Swatty's  uncle  had 
that  many,  he  did  n't  send  Swatty  one,  and  Swatty 

50  . 


THE  DIVORCE 

said  maybe  he  would.  We  just  kind  of  talked  and  let 
the  mud  dry  on  our  feet  and  crack  off  onto  the  floor. 

Well,  in  the  floor  in  one  place  there  was  a  hole 
and  Bony  showed  us  how  he  could  look  through  it 
down  into  the  dining-room  and  see  what  his  mother 
was  putting  on  the  table  for  dinner  whenever  she 
was  putting  anything  on.  The  hole  was  about  as 
big  around  as  a  stovepipe  and  it  had  a  tin  business 
in  it  to  keep  the  floor  from  catching  afire  because 
that  was  where  the  stovepipe  from  the  dining-room 
stove  came  up  through  the  floor  to  go  into  a  drum  to 
help  heat  Bony's  room  when  it  was  winter.  So  we 
all  looked  down  into  Bony's  stovepipe  hole  to  see  if 
it  was  like  he  said.  And  it  was. 

Just  then  Bony's  father  came  into  the  dining- 
room.  He  had  his  hat  on  but  it  was  n't  time  for 
dinner  or  anything  and  he  did  n't  come  into  the 
dining-room  as  if  he  was  coming  for  dinner.  He  came 
in  fast  and  threw  his  hat  on  the  floor  and  pounded 
on  the  table  twice  with  his  fist.  The  dishes  jumped 
and  a  milk  pitcher  fell  over  on  its  side  and  spilled 
the  milk. 

"Mary!  Mary!"  he  shouted. 

So  Bony's  mother  came  in  from  the  kitchen. 

"Why,  Henry!"  she  said;  "what's  the  matter?" 

"Matter?  Matter?"  he  shouted.  "I'll  tell  you 
what's  the  matter!  I  '11  show  you  what's  the  matter! 
Look  at  this!  Look  at  this,  will  you!" 

Me  and  Swatty  looked  but  Bony  kind  of  drew 
back  from  the  hole  and  his  mother  did  n't  look.  I 


SWATTY 

guess  she  did  n't  have  to.  I  guess  she  knew  what  it 
was  without  looking.  It  was  a  bill,  all  right.  Me  and 
Swatty  could  see  that  but  we  did  n't  know  what  it 
was  for  —  whether  it  was  for  a  hat  or  a  dress  or 
what.  So  Bony's  father  threw  the  bill  on  the  table 
and  stood  with  one  fist  on  the  edge  of  the  table  and 
the  other  fist  opening  and  shutting.  Bony's  mother 
had  been  paring  potatoes  or  something,  I  guess.  She 
wiped  her  hands  on  her  apron  but  she  did  n't  pick 
up  the  bill. 

"Well?  "she  said. 

"Of  all  the  useless,  idiotic,  ill-timed,  outrageous, 
unheard-of  extravagance  ever  incurred  by  any 
brainless,  gad-about,  senseless,  vain  peacock  of  a 
woman  — "  Bony's  father  said. 

"Henry!  Stop  right  there!"  Bony's  mother  said. 
"This  time  I  will  not  listen  to  your  abuse.  Year  after 
year  I  have  put  up  with  this  browbeating.  I  go  in 
rags,  and  if  I  so  much  as  buy  — " 

."Rags!"  Bony's  father  shouted.  "Rags!  Ydu  in 
rags?  You  dare  taunt  me  with  that,  when  you  crowd 
enough  on  your  back  to  support  a  dozen  families? 
Rags?  When  from  year's  end  to  year's  end  I  do 
nothing  but  struggle  to  pay  your  eternal  bills!" 

Well,  maybe  I  have  n't  got  what  Bony's  father 
and  mother  said  just  the  way  they  said  it,  but  it  was 
like  that.  So  they  had  a  good  start  and  they  went 
right  on  and  pretty  soon  Bony's  father  was  walking 
up  and  down  the  room,  talking  loud  and  pounding 
the  table  every  time  he  passed  it,  and  Bony 'smother 
52 


THE  DIVORCE 

was  sitting  with  a  corner  of  her  apron  in  each  hand 
and  the  hands  pressed  to  her  cheeks.  Her  eyes  were 
big  and  scary.  So  then  Bony's  father  stopped  in 
front  of  her  and  said  a  lot  and  she  did  n't  talk  back. 
So  that  made  him  mad  and  he  took  the  tablecloth 
and  jerked  it  and  all  the  dishes  fell  on  the  floor  and 
broke. 

Bony  just  went  to  the  bed  and  lay  on  his  face  and 
squeezed  his  hands  into  his  ears.  I  guess  he  felt 
pretty  mean.  He  was  crying,  but  we  did  n't  know 
that  then.  We  found  it  out  afterward. 

So  then,  when  all  the  dishes  broke,  Bony's  mother 
sort  of  yelled  and  jumped  up.  Swatty  said: 

"Garsh!  What's  she  going  to  do?" 

But  she  did  n't  do  anything  like  we  thought  she 
was  going  to.  She  bent  down  and  picked  up  a  dish 
that  was  n't  all  smashed  to  pieces  and  put  it  on  the 
table  as  easy  as  could  be  and  then  she  untied  her 
apron  and  folded  it  up  and  laid  it  over  the  back  of  a 
chair  as  neat  as  a  pin.  She  looked  at  herself  in  the 
mirror  in  the  sideboard  and  then  walked  around 
Bony's  father  and  went  toward  the  door  into  the 
hall. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Bony's  father  asked. 

"Going?"  she  said,  or  something  like  that.  "I'm 
going  to  see  if  I  can't  put  a  stop  to  this  sort  of  thing. 
I  have  had  enough  years  of  it.  I  'm  going  to  see  Mr. 
Rascop." 

Well,  we  knew  who  he  was ;  he  was  a  lawyer. 

"Very  well,"  said  Bony's  father,  "go!  I  assure 

53 


SWATTY 

you  you  cannot  get  a  divorce  too  quickly  to  suit 
me!" 

I  guess  that  when  the  loud  noise  stopped  Bony 
thought  the  fight  was  over  and  listened  again.  Any- 
way he  was  listening  now  and  he  heard  what  they 
said. 

"I  thought  that,"  said  Bony's  mother.  "This  is 
not  the  first  time,  by  many,  that  I  have  thought  it. 
You  will  be  glad  to  be  rid  of  me  and  I  of  you.  My 
mother  will  be  glad  enough  to  have  me  with  her.  I 
shall,  of  course,  take  the  boy." 

"As  you  like!"  said  Bony's  father. 

"The  boy"  was  Bony,  so  he  began  to  blubber 
worse  than  ever.  He  was  pretty  much  ashamed  and 
when  his  folks  began  to  talk  quiet-like,  without 
shouting,  me  and  Swatty  began  to  be  ashamed,  too. 
We  felt  the  way  you  feel  when  there's  just  been  a 
baby  at  your  house  —  as  if  we  had  n't  ought  to  be 
there.  So  Swatty  picked  up  his  hat. 

"Come  on!"  he  said.  "Let's  go.  It  ain't  no  fun 
up  here  in  Bony's  room." 

"Wait!"  Bony  whispered,  like  he  was  scared  to 
be  left  there  alone,  so  we  waited.  He  came  along 
with  us. 

We  tiptoed  downstairs  and  outdoors  and  I  tell  you 
it  was  good  to  get  outside  where  there  was  n't  any 
divorce  but  just  good  spring  mud  and  things.  So 
Swatty  whistled  at  a  kid  down  the  street  but  it  was 
a  kid  Swatty  had  said  he  would  lick  if  he  caught 
him,  so  the  kid  ran. 

54 


THE  DIVORCE 

Well,  we  sat  down  on  the  grass  under  the  tree  and 
me  and  Swatty  talked  pretty  loud  and  fighty  be- 
cause Bony  was  n't  saying  anything  at  all  and  was 
looking  so  earnest  it  made  us  feel  sort  of  ashamed. 
He  was  thinking  of  the  divorce.  So  me  and  Swatty 
talked  fighty  to  each  other  to  try  and  make  Bony 
forget. 

But  Bony  did  n't  laugh.  He  did  n't  even  smile.  So 
Swatty  took  some  mud  and  stuck  it  on  his  nose  and 
pretended  it  was  medicine  or  something;  to  make 
Bony  laugh.  But  Bony  did  n't  laugh.  I  guess  he  felt 
pretty  bad.  Maybe  a  kid  always  feels  that  way  when 
his  folks  are  going  to  get  divorced.  So  then  Swatty 
said: 

"Hey,  George!  this  is  the  way  I '11  ride  on  Bony's 
bicycle  when  he  gets  it!" 

So  he  pretended  he  was  on  a  bicycle  and  he  pre- 
tended to  fall  off  all  sorts  of  ways  and  to  run  into  a 
tree  and  everything.  Then  I  thought  of  something. 
I  said: 

"Say!  if  they  get  a  divorce  and  Bony  goes  away 
we  can't  learn  bicycle  riding  on  his  bicycle!" 

We  had  n't  thought  of  that  before  and  right  away 
we  forgot  about  whether  Bony  was  feeling  sick  or  not. 
We  had  n't  stopped  to  think  that  a  divorce  Bony's 
folks  were  getting  would  make  a  big  difference  like 
that  to  me  and  Swatty.  It  kind  of  brought  us  right 
into  the  divorce  ourselves.  Swatty  looked  frightened. 

"Garsh!  that's  so!"  he  said.  "We  can't  learn  to 
ride  on  a  bicycle  that 's  in  another  town." 
55 


SWATTY 

"And,  say!"  I  said,  frightened,  "if  Herb  hears 
about  it,  and  how  married  folks  fight  and  get  di- 
vorces over  hat-bills  and  things  he's  going  to  be 
scared  to  marry  Fan,  because  hat-bills  are  the 
things  father  scolds  Fan  most  about.  He'll  ask  Fan 
if  she  has  hat-bills— " 

"Garsh!"  said  Swatty  again,  "we've  got  to  stop 
the  divorce,"  only  he  said  "diworce,"  because  that 
was  how  he  talked. 

I  thought  so,  too.  If  Bony's  folks  got  one  and 
Herb  heard  about  it  and  got  scared  of  marrying 
Fan,  then  Swatty  would  n't  have  the  tricycle  and  I 
could  n't  take  Mamie  Little  riding  on  it  and  make 
fat,  old  Toady  Williams  look  sick.  So  I  thought  like 
Swatty  did,  but  I  said: 

"Well,  how  are  you  going  to  stop  it?" 

"If  Bony  was  to  get  the  diphtheria,  and  get  it 
bad,  that  would  stop  it,"  he  said. 

I  saw  that  was  so.  If  Bony  got  the  diphtheria,, 
and  got  it  bad,  they  would  n't  let  him  travel  on  the 
train,  and  so  his  mother  could  n't  go  to  his  grand- 
mother's and  that  would  stop  it.  So  I  said: 

"Yes,  and  while  he  was  sick  we  could  use  his  bicy- 
cle all  the  time.  How's  he  going  to  get  diphtheria?  " 

"Why,  as  easy  as  pie,"  Swatty  said.  "They've 
got  it  down  at  Markses.  All  he's  got  to  do  is  to  go 
down  there  and  sneak  in  and  stand  around  in  Billy 
Markses  bedroom  until  he  gets  it.  Diphtheria  is 
one  of  the  easiest  things  you  can  get.  Anybody  can 
get  it!" 

56 


THE  DIVORCE 

It  looked  like  a  mighty  good  plan  to  me.  Me  and 
Swatty  went  on  talking  about  it  and  the  more  we 
talked  the  better  it  was.  We  talked  about  how  long 
it  would  be  after  Bony  got  exposed  to  it  before  he 
would  really  have  it  and  Swatty  said  that  would  n't 
matter.  All  Bony  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  go 
right  down  to  Markses  and  get  exposed  and  then 
hurry  home  and  tell  his  mother.  The  divorce  would 
stop  right  away  and  would  n't  have  to  wait  until  he 
was  sick  in  bed  before  it  stopped.  So  then  I  said  that, 
anyway,  Bony's  father  would  send  for  the  bicycle 
right  away,  because  fathers  always  hurry  up  to  get 
things  when  their  boys  are  good  and  sick.  It  was  all 
bully  and  fine  and  me  and  Swatty  felt  pretty  good 
about  it,  but  Bony  spoke  up. 

"I  ain't  going  to  get  diphtheria!"  he  said. 

Well,  that 's  the  way  some  fellows  are !  You  go  and 
work  your  brains  all  to  pieces  thinking  up  things  to 
help  them  out  of  their  troubles  and  then  they  say 
something  like  that.  We  saw  it  was  n't  any  use  to 
coax  him.  If  we  wanted  to  stop  the  divorce  we  would 
have  to  do  it  another  way.  I  said : 

"I  know  the  preacher  that  Bony's  mother  goes 
to  the  church  of." 

"Well,  what's  that  got  to  do  with  it?"  Swatty 
asked. 

"Well,  could  n't  we  tell  him  about  it  and  get  him 

to  stop  the  divorce?  When  Jim  Carter  would  n't 

marry  our  cook  my  father  told  the  Catholic  priest 

and  he  made  Jim  Carter  marry  her  as  easy  as  pie." 

57 


SWATTY 

"That's  no  good,"  Swatty  said.  "That  was  mar- 
rying. That's  what  priests  and  preachers  are  for  — 
marrying  folks  together  —  they  ain't  for  diworcing 
them  apart  again.  If  it  was  somebody  I  wanted  to 
have  married  together  of  course  I  'd  have  thought  of 
a  preacher  right  away.  You  don't  think  I'm  so 
dumb  as  not  to  have  thought  of  that,  do  you?  But 
this  ain't  marrying  them  together,  it's  keeping  them 
married  together;  it's  keeping  them  from  diworcing 
apart."  Then,  all  at  once  he  said,  "Garsh!" 

"What  are  you  garshing  about?"  I  asked  him. 

"Garsh!"  he  said  again.  "I  guess  I  am  dumb!  I 
guess  I  ought  to  let  a  mule  kick  me !  I  ought  to  have 
thought  of  it  right  off!" 

"Thought  of  what,  Swatty?" 

"Why,  the  judge!  You,  talking  about  preachers 
and  priests  and  all  them  and  not  thinking  of  the 
judge!  It's  a  judge  that  always  diworces  people 
apart,  ain't  it?  Well,  what  we  've  got  to  do  is  see 
the  judge  and  tell  him  not  to  diworce  Bony's  folks 
apart!" 

"Come  on!  We'll  go  see  the  judge  and  tell  him 
not  to  diworce  Bony's  folks  apart." 

Well,  I  guess  we  did  n't  think  when  we  started 
how  we  would  do  it.  We  just  started. 

When  we  got  down  to  the  court-house,  where  the 
judge  stays,  I  did  n't  feel  so  much  like  doing  it  and 
Bony  did  n't  feel  like  doing  it  at  all.  It  was  different 
when  we  got  down  there  than  it  was  when  we  were 
sitting  on  the  grass  under  my  apple  tree.  All  along 

' 


THE  DIVORCE 

the  front  edge  of  the  front  porch  of  the  court-house 
were  big  pillars  and  each  pillar  was  as  big  around  as 
twenty  boys  standing  in  a  lump  would  be.  So  me  and 
Bony  we  sort  of  peeked  into  the  hall  and  went  out  on 
the  porch  again,  but  Swatty  went  right  inside.  So  we 
sort  of  frowned  at  Swatty  and  shouted  in  a  whisper: 

"Aw!  come  on,  Swatty!  Let's  go  home." 

But  Swatty  spoke  right  out,  as  if  he  wasn't 
afraid  of  the  court-house  at  all. 

"Aw,  come  on!"  he  said.  "What  are  you  afraid 
of?" 

I  would  n't  have  talked  out  loud  like  that  for  any- 
thing. His  voice  came  back  in  echoes:  "Aw-waw- 
come-um-um-on-non-non ! "  Like  that.  Every  word 
he  said  said  itself  over  and  over  that  way. 

But  Swatty,  when  we  did  n't  come,  went  down  the 
hall  and  when  he  found  an  open  door  he  went  right 
in.  He  asked  for  the  judge.  We  looked  into  the  hall 
and  we  saw  Swatty  come  out  of  the  door  he  had  gone 
in  at  and  we  saw  him  go  up  the  wide  stairs  and  push 
open  the  green  door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  go 
in.  After  a  while  he  came  out  again  and  came  down- 
stairs and  out  on  the  porch. 

"Did  you  see  him?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  he  said.  "I'd  ought  to  have  remembered 
that  this  was  Saturday.  Judges  don't  have  court  on 
Saturday;  they  go  fishing." 

So  then  Bony  began  to  cry.  He  leaned  against  one 
of  the  big  pillars  and  began  to  snigger  like  a  little  kid 
that's  lost,  and  then  he  turned  his  face  to  the  pillar 
59 


SWATTY 

and  I  guess  he  bawled  to  himself.  I  guess  he  had  sort 
of  thought  Swatty  would  have  everything  fixed  so 
there  would  n't  be  any  divorce  when  he  came  from 
the  judge's  room  and  it  disappointed  him.  So  Swatty 
said:  "Aw!  shut  up  your  bellerin'!  We  ain't  going 
to  let  your  folks  get  diworced,  are  we?  You  make 
me  sick,  acting  like  we  wras.  I  guess  me  and  George 
knows  what  we  are  going  to  do,  don't  we,  George?" 

So  I  says,  "Yes;  what  is  it?" 

Well,  Swatty  knew  just  what  we  were  going  to  do; 
and  so  did  I,  after  he  told  me.  We  were  going  to  go 
to  the  judge  where  he  was  fishing  and  tell  him  not  to 
divorce  Bony's  folks.  And  that  was  all  right  because 
Bony's  mother  was  afraid  of  the  water  and  would  n't 
ride  in  a  rowboat  and  so  even  if  she  wanted  to  get 
divorced  quick  she  could  n't  be  until  the  judge  came 
back  from  fishing.  So  then  I  said: 

"Aw!  there  ain't  no  fishing  when  the  water  is  so 
high  in  the  river!" 

"Aw!  who  told  you  so  much?"  Swatty  said. 
"You  think  you  know  all  the  kinds  of  fishing  there 
is,  don't  you?  Well,  I  guess  you  don't!  I  guess  me 
and  the  judge  knows  more  kinds  of  fishing  than  you 
do." 

So  we  walked  down  to  the  river  and  Swatty  told 
us.  It  was  buffalo  fishing  you  do  with  a  pitchfork.  I 
guess  you  know  what  kind  of  a  fish  a  buffalo  is.  At 
first  nobody  ate  buffalo  fish  but  niggers,  and  they 
ate  dogfish,  too,  but  pretty  soon  the  fishmarket  men 
got  so  they  shipped  buffalo  fish  to  Chicago  and 
60 


THE  DIVORCE 

everywhere  just  like  they  shipped  catfish.  But  no- 
body in  our  town  ate  them  but  niggers,  because  they 
tasted  of  mud.  Maybe  the  Chicago  people  liked  to 
taste  mud. 

Well,  anyway,  the  buffalo  fish  eat  grass  or  roots 
or  something  and  in  the  spring,  when  the  river  is 
high  and  up  over  the  bottoms,  the  buffalo  fish  swim 
up  to  wherever  the  edge  of  the  river  has  gone  in  the 
grass  and  weeds  and  sometimes  they  swim  in  so  close 
that  their  backs  stick  out  of  water  and  they  sort  of 
swim  on  their  bellies  in  the  mud  —  dozens  and  hun- 
dreds of  them,  big  fat  fellows.  So  then  the  farmer  can't 
plough  yet,  because  it  is  too  muddy  in  the  fields, 
and  they  get  their  farm  wagons  and  some  pitchforks 
and  drive  down  to  the  river.  Then  they  separate 
apart  and  wade  out  and  come  together  again  when 
they  are  out  about  waist  deep  and  they  wade  in 
toward  shore  and  the  buffalo  fish  are  between  them 
and  the  shore.  Then  the  farmers  go  with  a  rush  and 
the  buffalo  fish  get  scared.  Some  of  them  get  so 
scared  they  try  to  swim  right  up  on  shore  on  their 
bellies,  and  some  try  to  swim  out  into  deep  water, 
but  whatever  they  try  to  do  the  farmers  just  pitch- 
fork them  up  onto  shore.  Wagon  loads  of  them! 
So,  before  the  Chicago  folks  got  to  like  buffalo  fish, 
the  farmers  chopped  the  buffalo  fish  into  bits  and 
ploughed  them  into  the  ground  to  make  things 
grow  better,  but  now  they  mostly  hauled  them  to 
town  and  sold  them  to  the  fishmarket  men  for  one 
and  one  half  cents  a  pound.  So  that  was  where  the 
61 


SWATTY 

judge  was.  He  was  over  to  a  farmer's  named  Sheb- 
berd,  in  Illinois,  because  he  had  never  pitchforked 
buffalo  fish  before  and  he  wanted  to  do  it  once  and 
see  what  it  was  like. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  knew  where  Shebberd's 
was,  because  when  you  were  over  in  Illinois  you 
could  get  a  drink  of  water  there. 

I  guess  it  was  almost  a  mile  across  the  river  and 
then  it  was  almost  five  miles  back  to  Shebberd's 
bottom  land  cornfield.  We  got  a  skiff  at  the  boat- 
house  and  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  rowed  across  the 
river.  The  water  was  mighty  high  and  the  current 
was  everywhere  and  not  just  in  one  place,  and  it  was 
strong.  Bony  sat  in  the  stern  and  me  and  Swatty 
rowed  and  we  had  to  row  almost  straight  up-stream. 
It  was  hard  work.  My  wrists  swelled  up  and  got  hot 
and  tight  but  we  kept  thinking  about  the  divorce  we 
did  n't  want  Bony's  folks  to  get  and  we  kept  on 
rowing.  Even  with  the  boat  pointed  almost  straight 
up-stream  we  were  about  half  a  mile  below  where 
we  started,  when  we  reached  the  Illinois  side  and 
rowed  in  among  the  trees.  It  was  easier  there;  not 
so  much  current. 

It  was  fine  rowing  through  the  trees,  seeing  every- 
thing, and  nothing  looking  like  it  usually  does.  We 
came  to  the  First  Slough  and  it  was  just  water  — 
like  a  road  of  water  between  the  trees  —  and  we 
kept  on  rowing  and  came  to  the  Second  Slough  and 
the  Third  Slough  and  they  were  like  that,  too,  and 
tnen  we  came  out  of  the  trees  and  we  were  in  a  whale 
62 


THE  DIVORCE 

of  a  lot  of  water.  Bony  said,  "Oh!"  and  Swatty 
looked  over  his  shoulder  and  said,  "Garsh!"  and 
stopped  rowing.  It  looked  like  miles  and  miles  of 
water  —  water  we  had  never  seen  before  —  and  all 
at  once  you  felt  little  and  lost  and  sort  of  frightened. 

' '  Garsh ! "  Swatty  said. ' '  I  was  never  here  before." 

"Where  is  it?"  I  asked. 

Swatty  looked  all  around. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "I  never  heard  of  a 
place  like  this." 

"Swatty!"  I  said. 

"What?" 

"Let's  go  home!" 

I  guess  I  sort  of  whined  it,  and  so  Bony  began  to 
cry.  Swatty  stood  up  and  let  his  oars  rest  and  looked 
all  around.  He  looked  anxious  and  when  Swatty 
looked  anxious  it  was  time  to  be  frightened.  Any- 
way, I  thought  so. 

When  Swatty  had  looked  all  around  and  did  n't 
know  any  more  than  he  did  before,  he  sat  down  and 
looked  over  the  edge  of  the  boat  at  the  water.  So  I 
did  it. 

"What  do  you  see,  Swatty?"  I  asked,  because  I 
was  afraid  he  saw  something  to  be  frightened  of. 
But  what  he  saw  was  little  flecks  of  leaves  and 
things  floating  by  in  the  water  the  way  dust  floats  in 
the  sunlight,  and  the  reason  he  looked  was  so  he 
could  see  which  way  the  current  was  running,  be- 
cause no  matter  where  we  were  we  wanted  to  row 
up-stream.  We  had  gone  into  the  woods  below  the 

63 


SWATTY 

bottom  road  and  when  the  water  was  as  high  as  it 
was  now  the  bottom  road  either  made  a  dam  across 
the  bottom  or  the  water  came  over  it  like  a  water- 
fall or  rushed  through  in  a  rapids  nobody  could  row 
up.  So  Swatty  knew  we  could  n't  have  passed  the 
bottom  road  but  must  be  below  it  somewhere  and 
the  place  we  wanted  to  be  at  was  just  where  the 
bottom  road  hit  the  hill,  so  what  we  had  to  do  — 
wherever  we  were  then  —  was  to  row  up-stream.  So 
we  rowed.  We  rowed  I  don't  know  how  far  and  all 
at  once  Bony  said : 

"Look  out!  you're  rowing  into  something!" 

Me  and  Swatty  backed  water  as  quick  as  we 
could  and  looked  over  our  shoulders.  What  we  had 
nearly  rowed  into  was  a  pile  of  sticks  and  a  heap  of 
dried  grass.  It  was  a  good  deal  as  if  somebody  had 
chucked  a  couple  of  forks  full  of  hay  on  a  lot  of 
driftwood  and  set  it  adrift. 

"There's  something  alive  in  it!"  Bony  sort  of 
shivered. 

Swatty  looked  and  I  looked. 

"Mush-rat's  house!"  Swatty  said  right  away, 
and  it  was.  It  was  the  kind  the  mush-rats  make  so 
that  when  a  flood  comes  it  will  float  and  not  sink, 
and  there  it  was  right  out  in  the  middle  of  the  lake 
we  were  lost  in. 

Then  all  at  once  Swatty  said:  "Say!" 

Gee,  but  he  scared  me! 

"What,  Swatty?"  I  asked. 

"Say!"  he  said;  "we're  floating  away  from  that 
64 


THE  DIVORCE 

mush-rat  house  and  it  ain't  floating  with  us.  I  never 
heard  of  a  mush-rat  house  out  in  the  middle  of  a 
lake,  with  a  current  floating  by,  that  did  n't  float 
with  the  current!" 

"Are  you  scared,  Swatty?"  I  asked,  for  if  he  was 
scared  I  did  n't  know  what  I  would  be. 

"No,  I  ain't  scared,"  he  said,  "but  it  ain't  right. 
It  ain't  possible,  that's  all!  I  bet  this  is  a  haunted 
lake.  I  bet  there  is  a  haunted  house  around  here, 
or  an  ol'  witch,  or  something." 

"Come  on,  let's  get  out  of  it,  then.  Let's  row!" 
I  said. 

"You  bet  I'll  row!"  Swatty  said,  and  we  did. 
We  steered  off  to  one  side  of  the  mush-rat's  house 
and  rowed  hard.  We  had  a  good  double-ender  skiff, 
rounded  bottom  and  not  flat  bottom,  and  we  made 
her  hump!  All  of  a  sudden  Swatty 's  left  oar  came 
out  of  the  oarlock  and  he  nearly  fell  backwards  into 
the  bottom  of  the  boat.  He  got  up  and  slapped 
the  oar  back  into  the  oarlock  and  we  both  rowed 
hard. 

"We  ain't  moving!" 

Bony  said  that.  He  was  hanging  onto  the  sides 
of  the  skiff  with  both  hands,  looking  scared  and 
white,  and  you  never  heard  anybody  say  anything 
the  way  he  said  that !  It  was  like  he  had  seen  a  ghost. 
Me  and  Swatty  stopped  rowing  and  looked.  About 
twenty  feet  away  from  us  was  that  old  mush-rat 
house  and  we  could  see  a  little  ripple  of  water  on 
the  upper  side  of  it  but  it  was  n't  moving  and  we 
65 


SWATTY 

were  n't  floating  away  from  it.  There  was  the  same 
kind  of  ripple  against  the  bow  of  our  boat. 

We  rowed  again  and  we  rowed  hard  and  the  skiff 
did  n't  move !  There  we  were,  out  in  the  middle  of 
that  haunted  lake,  or  whatever  it  was,  and  no  bot- 
tom that  you  could  reach  with  an  oar,  and  we 
could  n't  row  up-stream  and  we  did  n't  float  down- 
stream. And  over  yonder  was  a  mush-rat's  house 
just  like  we  were.  It  sure  looked  like  we  were  in  a 
haunted  lake  and  I  did  n't  blame  Bony  for  being 
scared  and  crying.  I  was  scared  myself.  It  looked 
like  we  were  in  a  haunted  lake  we  could  not  row  out 
of  and  that  we  might  have  to  stay  there  forever. 

"Well,  garsh!"  Swatty  said,  "we  rowed  up  here, 
we  ought  to  be  good  and  able  to  row  back  where 
we  come  from."  So  we  swung  the  skiff  around  and 
rowed  down-current.  No  good!  We  did  n't  move  at 
all.  Or  we  just  moved  a  foot  or  two. 

It  was  n't  like  when  you  run  up  on  a  snag  or  a 
rock.  It  was  n't  stiff  like  that.  We  floated  all  right 
but  we  could  n't  go  anywhere. 

' '  Listen ! "  Swatty  said. 

Away  off  far  we  heard  voices  and  splashing, 
sounding  the  way  things  sound  when  you  hear  them 
across  water.  Swatty  shouted.  "Hello!"  he  shouted, 
and  his  voice  came  back  to  him,  "Lo-wo-wo!"  in  an 
echo,  the  way  echoes  do. 

"All  right!"  he  said.  "Now  we  know  where  the 
Illinois  hills  are,  anyway.  That's  the  way  they  echo 
back  at  you,  so  they  must  be  over  there.  And  I  bet 
66 


THE  DIVORCE 

those  men  splashing  in  the  water  are  after  buffalo 
with  pitchforks.  So  that's  where  we  want  to  row." 

That  was  pretty  fine,  was  n't  it,  when  we  could  n't 
row  at  all?  I  told  Swatty  so.  I  said  we'd  better  shout 
and  have  the  men  come  and  get  us.  Swatty  said 
they'd  just  think  it  was  kids  shouting  for  fun;  and 
I  guess  that 's  what  they  did  think,  for  we  shouted 
and  shouted,  and  when  we  quit  we  could  still  hear 
the  men  laughing  and  talking  and  splashing.  So  then 
Swatty  sat  down  and  put  his  head  in  his  hands  and 
thought.  When  we  looked  up  he  said: 

"Do  you  believe  in  haunts  and  things?" 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said.  "Do  you?" 

"I  don't  know,  either,"  Swatty  said.  "Maybe  I 
do  and  maybe  I  don't,  but  I  know  one  thing:  I  ain't 
going  to  believe  in  them  until  I  have  to.  I  ain't 
going  to  believe  this  boat  is  'witched  here  until  I 
know  it  ain't  stuck  here  some  other  way.  I  'm  going 
to  find  out." 

"How?"  I  asked. 

"Well,  if  we're  stuck  we're  stuck  on  something 
under  the  water  and  that 's  sure,  and  I  'm  going  to 
skin  off  my  clothes  and  find  out." 

So  he  did.  I  would  n't  have  done  it  for  a  million 
dollars  and  I  tried  to  make  him  not,  but  he  did  it. 
He  took  off  his  clothes  and  lowered  himself  over  the 
side  of  the  boat  and  said,  garsh!  how  cold  it  was! 
So  then  he  edged  himself  along,  holding  onto  the 
side  of  the  boat  and  all  at  once  he  swore. 

"What?"  me  and  Bony  both  asked  at  once. 

67 


SWATTY 

"Bob  wire!"  he  said,  and  he  let  go  with  one  hand 
and  felt  down  into  the  water.  Then  he  took  hold  of 
the  boat  with  both  hands  and  felt  along  under  the 
boat  with  his  feet.  "It's  a  post,"  he  said.  "It's  a 
bob-wire  fence." 

So  that  was  what  it  was.  There  was  a  bob-wire 
fence  and  we  had  rowed  right  on  top  of  one  of  the 
posts  and  stuck  there,  on  a  nail  or  something,  and 
the  post  was  loose  in  the  mud  and  gave  when  we 
rowed,  so  we  could  n't  wrench  loose  by  rowing.  And 
that  was  why  the  mush-rat  house  did  not  float  down- 
stream; it  was  caught  on  another  post.  So  all  at  once 
Swatty  said: 

"I  know  where  we  are;  we're  in  Shebberd's  lower 
cornfield ! "  And  that  was  where  we  were.  The  water 
had  come  up  and  covered  it  up  to  the  tops  of  the 
bob- wire  fence  posts. 

Well,  Swatty's  teeth  were  chattering  but  he 
would  n't  get  right  into  the  boat.  He  made  me  and 
Bony  row  while  he  was  out,  and  I  guess  with  the 
boat  lighter  it  floated  off  the  post  easier,  for  it  did 
float  off.  So  then  Swatty  got  in  and  dressed  and  we 
rowed  toward  the  voices  and  the  splashing. 

It  was  Judge  Hannan  all  right.  He  was  pitch- 
forking buffalo  fish  with  the  Shebberds.  He  had  on 
rubber  hip  boots  and  he  was  hot  and  having  a  good 
time.  We  rowed  in  close  to  where  he  was  and  watched 
them  pitchfork  awhile  and  then  Swatty  backwatered 
the  skiff  up  to  where  the  judge  was  standing  and 
said: 

68 


THE  DIVORCE 

"Say,  mister  judge!" 

The  judge  leaned  his  hand  on  the  stern  of  the 
boat  and  said: 

"Yes,  my  lad,  what  is  it?" 

"Are  you  the  judge  that  gives  diworces?" 

"I'm  the  one  that  don't  give  them  unless  I  have 
to,  son,"  the  judge  laughed.  "Looking  for  one?  You 
don't  look  as  if  you  had  reached  that  age  and  state 
yet." 

"  It  ain't  mine,"  Swatty  said.  "It's  Bony's folkses. 
They're  having  a  fight  and  they're  going  to  get  a 
diworce  and  me  and  Georgie  and  Bony  don't  want 
them  to.  So  we  rowed  over  to  tell  you  not  to  give 
them  one." 

The  judge  felt  in  his  pocket  and  got  out  his  spec- 
tacles and  put  them  on  and  looked  at  us.  He  asked 
which  was  Bony  and  then  he  knew  who  Bony  was 
and  that  he  knew  Bony's  folks.  He  said  he  did. 

"And  you  don't  want  any  divorces  in  your  family, 
hey?  "he  said.  "Why  not?" 

Bony  did  n't  say  anything,  so  Swatty  started  to 
tell  about  the  bicycle,  but  before  he  got  very  far 
Bony  just  doubled  over  and  put  his  head  on  his 
knees  and  began  to  beller  like  a  real  baby.  So  the 
judge  stopped  Swatty. 

"Son,"  he  said  to  Swatty,  "I  guess  you've  mis- 
tooken  the  proper  legal  grounds  for  not  giving 
divorces.  The  desire  of  a  youth  to  learn  to  ride  one 
of  the  condemned  things  when  he  is  related  to  the 
separating  parties  only  by  neighborhood  is  not  suffi- 
69 


SWATTY 

cient  to  sway  the  court.  But  you,  son,"  he  said  to 
Bony,  "have  got  exactly  the  right  idea.  You've 
swayed  this  old,  bald-headed  court  right  down  to 
the  mud  he's  standing  in  and,  so  help  me  John 
Joseph  Rogers!  if  those  two  parents  of  yours  get  a 
divorce  it  will  only  be  over  my  dead  body!  Hey, 
Sheb!  can  these  kids  go  up  to  your  house  and  get 
some  buttermilk?" 

So  I  said  I  did  n't  like  buttermilk  and  the  judge 
said:  "Caesar's  ghost!  I  did  n't  mean  get  it  for  you; 
I  meant  get  it  for  us!" 

So  we  got  it.  So  Bony's  folks  did  n't  get  a  divorce. 
Anyway,  if  they  did  they  did  n't  separate  apart 
from  each  other  and  that  was  all  me  and  Swatty 
cared  for  because  Herb  Schwartz  would  n't  be  scared 
to  marry  Fan,  and  maybe  we  could  hurry  up  the 
wedding  and  get  the  tricycle  sooner. 


IV 

THE  STUMP 

WELL,  you  never  can  tell  how  things  are  going  to 
go  in  this  world,  I  guess.  I  don't  mean  that  I  spent 
all  my  time  thinking  how  getting  the  tricycle  with 
two  seats  would  make  Mamie  Little  think  more  of 
me  than  she  thought  of  Toady  Williams,  because  I 
did  n't.  I  had  school  and  my  chores  and  me  and 
Swatty  and  Bony  was  building  a  capstan  in  our 
side  yard,  to  pull  up  stumps  and  move  houses  if  we 
wanted  to,  but  once  in  a  while  I  did  think  how  I 
would  ride  up  to  Mamie  Little's  front  gate  on  the 
tricycle  and  say,  "Say!  wanta  take  a  ride?" 

It  looked  as  if  it  would  n't  be  long  before  Herb 
and  Fan  got  married,  because  they  had  n't  fought 
for  a  long  while  and  Fan  was  embroidering  towels 
by  day  and  by  night.  One  reason  it  all  looked  good 
was  that  Miss  Murphy,  who  was  my  teacher  and  had 
had  Herb  for  a  while,  had  gone  away  for  a  while 
and  Miss  Carter  was  substituting  for  her  in  our 
room.  So  Fan  need  n't  be  jealous  of  Miss  Murphy 
any  more. 

So  I  felt  pretty  good  mostly  but  I  was  feeling 
pretty  mean  this  day,  because  Swatty  and  Bony 
had  been  let  out  on  time  and  Miss  Carter  had  kept 
me  in  after  school.  I  was  feeling  mean  because  they 
would  be  working  on  the  capstan,  and  it  was  the 

71 


SWATTY 

day  we  thought  we  would  get  it  finished  and  begin 
capstaning  things  with  it,  and  I  would  n't  be  home 
when  they  got  it  done.  I  wanted  to  be  there  when 
they  started  to  use  it.  So  that  made  me  feel  mean 
one  way,  and  teacher  made  me  feel  meaner,  another 
way. 

I  liked  Miss  Carter  better  than  any  teacher  I  ever 
had.  So  all  I  did  was  not  know  my  geography-lesson, 
or  my  arithmetic-lesson  or  my  grammar-lesson,  or 
my  history,  and  I  missed  in  spelling.  I  guess  maybe 
I  read  all  right,  because  she  did  n't  say  I  did  n't, 
but  maybe  she  forgot  to  talk  about  that  because  she 
was  so  busy  saying  my  deportment  was  bad  and  it 
was  certainly  an  outrage  that  my  copy-book  was  so 
poorly  kept.  So  she  kept  me  in  to  study,  and  it  was 
four  o'clock  pretty  soon,  and  she  put  her  papers  in 
her  desk  and  shut  down  the  lid  and  came  back  to 
my  seat.  Everybody  else  had  gone  home.  I  was  sort 
of  scared.  I  thought  she  was  going  to  say  her  patience 
was  exhausted  and  then  whale  me  with  the  rawhide 
she  kept  in  the  closet. 

But  she  did  n't.  She  came  back  to  where  I  was, 
and  when  she  got  to  my  seat  she  sat  down  in  it 
beside  me  and  I  had  to  move  over  so  she  would  have 
room.  I  guess  I  ought  to  have  put  my  hands  in  my 
pockets,  but  of  course  I  did  n't  know  what  she  was 
going  to  do,  and  the  first  thing  she  did  was  to  put 
her  left  hand  on  top  of  my  hand  and  hold  it,  like 
that,  on  top  of  my  desk.  So  I  tried  to  pull  it  away, 
but  she  held  on.  So  then  she  put  her  arm  —  her  right 
72 


THE  STUMP 

arm  —  along  the  desk  back  of  me,  and  I  felt  mighty 
mean.  A  boy  don't  like  to  be  armed  around  that 
way,  or  his  hand  held  like  that. 

"George,"  she  said,  "what  is  it?  Why  are  you 
acting  the  way  you  are?  Are  you  doing  it  to  try  to 
distress  me?" 

Well,  I  could  n't  say  anything  to  that,  could  I  ? 
I  just  looked  at  the  top  of  the  desk  and  moved  my 
feet  around. 

"Tell  me!"  she  said  as  if  she  was  n't  mad  at  all 
but  as  if  she  was  sorry.  "  I  can't  understand  it.  It  is 
no  use  for  you  to  pretend  you  can't  learn  your  les- 
sons, for  I  have  seen  that  it  is  no  trouble  at  all  for 
you,  when  you  want  to.  And  you  are  such  a  natu- 
rally good,  well-behaved  boy  at  heart  —  why  are 
you  trying  to  act  as  if  you  were  not?  Are  you  doing 
it  to  distress  me?" 

I  guess  I  sort  of  said  "No!"  I  don't  know  what  I 
did  say.  I  felt  pretty  bad,  with  my  hand  held  like 
that  and  her  arm  right  there  and  liable  to  get  around 
my  shoulders  the  way  she  does  to  the  girls  when 
she 's  fond  of  them  and  they  disappoint  her  and  she 
has  a  talk  with  them  and  makes  them  cry. 

"Then  what  is  it,  George?"  she  asked. 

Well,  you  can't  blat  right  out  and  say  nothing  is 
the  matter  only  you  don't  feel  like  learning  any  old 
lessons  or  anything,  can  you?  There  was  n't  any- 
thing the  matter.  I  did  n't  have  it  in  for  teacher  or 
anything.  I  just  did  n't  feel  like  learning  any  les- 
sons about  then,  and  it  was  mean  of  teacher  to  let 

73 


SWATTY 

on  I  was  doing  things  because  I  did  n't  like  her  or 
something.  So  I  did  n't  say  anything.  I  sort  of 
scrooged  down  in  my  seat  so  she  could  n't  put  her 
arm  around  me  any  more  than  it  was. 

"Is  it  Mamie  Little?"  she  asked  then,  all  of  a 
sudden. 

That  was  an  awful  mean  thing  to  say,  and  I  guess 
she  knew  it  was,  because  when  a  fellow  has  a  girl 
he  don't  want  anybody  to  know  it  or  talk  about  it. 
He'll  fight  any  fellow  that  says  it,  but  he  can't  fight 
his  teacher  when  she  says  it. 

"I  think  it  must  be  Mamie  Little,  George,"  she 
said  next,  "because  I  have  noticed  you  keep  your 
eyes  on  her  more  than  you  do  on  your  lessons." 

That  made  me  squirm,  I  guess!  But  that  was  n't 
the  worst.  She  was  n't  hardly  started. 

"I  don't  blame  you  for  liking  Mamie,  George," 
she  said.  "She  is  a  sweet  child  and  I  love  her,  too, 
and  I  am  glad  you  are  fond  of  her;  but  don't  you 
think  she  would  like  you  better  if  you  learned  your 
lessons  and  behaved  in  a  manner  she  could  admire, 
instead  of  trying  to  attract  her  attention  by  smarty 
tricks?  Don't  you  think  a  boy  with  your  ability 
should  try  to  impress  her  by  his  excellence  rather 
than  by  his  smarty  tricks?" 

Gee!  I  felt  mean!  Running  a  fellow's  girl  in  on 
him  like  that!  1  was  so  ashamed  all  over  that  I 
could  n't  move.  I  did  n't  dare  to  move  even  a  finger. 
I  could  n't  do  anything  but  swallow. 

"Now,  we  won't  say  anything  more  about  it," 

74 


THE  STUMP 

she  said,  and  she  patted  my  hand!  "  You  know  how 
much  I  like  you,  George,  and  how  proud  I  usually 
am  of  you,  and  I  think  Mamie  is  fond  of  you,  too. 
I  don't  think  you  need  to  be  a  smarty  to  attract  her. 
If  you  don't  care  to  do  it  for  me,  George,  tell  me 
you  will  try  to  learn  your  lessons  and  behave  better 
on  Mamie's  account.  You  will,  won't  you?  Say  you 
will!" 

I  guess  I  tried  to  say  I  would,  but  I  could  n't  even 
swallow.  I  did  n't  know  how  I  'd  even  get  away  from 
there,  because  Miss  Carter  might  stay  until  I  said  I 
would  or  something,  and  I  could  n't  work  my  voice: 
it  had  dried  up,  I  guess.  But  I  did  n't  have  to  say 
anything.  Miss  Carter  put  her  hand  on  my  head 
and  let  it  stay  there  a  minute,  and  then  she  smiled 
and  jumped  up  as  if  everything  was  fixed  and  I  had 
said  I  would,  and  she  said:  "All  right,  George;  you 
can  go  home."  And  I  went,  you  bet. 

Well,  that  settled  Miss  Carter  with  me!  She  had 
been  one  of  the  three  women  I  thought  were  dandy, 
because  the  other  two  were  my  mother  and  my 
grandmother  that  everybody  calls  "Ladylove"  be- 
cause she  is  so  dear,  but  after  that  I  was  done  with 
Miss  Carter.  Anybody  that  would  talk  to  a  fellow 
about  his  girl  as  if  she  was  his  girl !  I  guessed  maybe 
I  would  n't  go  back  to  school  any  more  unless  I 
could  get  transferred  to  another  teacher's  room. 

So  I  felt  pretty  mean  and  sore  and  everything 
when  I  got  home,  and  I  started  around  to  the  side 
yard,  where  Swatty  and  Bony  were  finishing  the 
75 


SWATTY 

capstan,  and  all  at  once  my  mother  came  to  the  end 
of  the  porch  and  pulled  the  vines  aside  and  said: 

"George,  come  here!" 

I  tried  to  think  what  I  had  done  to  make  her  say 
it  like  that,  but  I  could  n't,  only  a  fellow  is  always 
doing  something,  so  it  did  n't  matter  much  what  it 
was.  I  went  around  and  onto  the  porch. 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  I  said. 

"George,"  my  mother  said  in  the  way  they  call 
severe,  "Mrs.  Martin  was  here." 

"Yes'm,"  I  said,  for  I  did  n't  know  what  else  to 
say,  because  I  did  n't  know  why  Mrs.  Martin  had 
been  there.  I  knew  who  Mrs.  Martin  was  and  where 
she  lived,  because  she  was  the  lady  that  had  the 
lame  boy  that  would  never  grow  up  but  would  al- 
ways be  about  five  years  old.  He  was  thirteen  years 
old,  and  he  played  with  a  rag  doll  and  always  stayed 
in  his  yard,  but  sometimes  he  looked  out  between 
the  fence-pickets.  Sometimes  when  I  went  down- 
town on  errands  and  got  a  nickel  for  it  and  bought 
some  candy,  I  'd  give  him  a  piece  when  I  went  by, 
and  so  would  Swatty  and  so  would  Bony.  Sometimes 
he'd  say,  "Where  you  get  that  ball?  I  want  it!"  just 
like  a  little  baby,  and  if  we  did  n't  give  it  to  him, 
he  'd  cry,  but  we  could  n't  give  him  our  ball,  could 
we?  So  when  we  went  by  his  house  we  hid  anything 
he  might  cry  for,  so  he  would  n't  cry  for  it.  That 
was  all  I  knew  about  Mrs.  Martin,  only  she  was 
a  widow  and  she  was  cross  sometimes.  Anyway, 
sometimes  she  looked  cross. 
76 


THE  STUMP 

"George,"  my  mother  said  —  and  I  guess  she 
never  spoke  to  me  any  sadder  than  she  did  then  — 
"Mrs.  Martin  told  me  something  I  would  never 
have  believed  of  my  boy.  I  have  always  thought  you 
were  a  kind-hearted,  considerate  boy.  Oh,  George, 
why  —  why  did  you  strike  that  poor,  helpless  little 
cripple?" 

"I  did  not!  I  did  n't  do  any  such  thing!  It  ain't 
so!"  I  said,  because  I  knew  she  meant  I  had  hit 
Sammy  Martin. 

My  mother  sort  of  threw  out  her  hand. 

"Don't!"  she  said.  "It  is  enough  without  that. 
It  is  enough  to  be  a  bully  without  being  a  liar.  Mrs. 
Martin  has  told  me  — " 

"I  ain't  a  liar!"  I  said,  because  I  was  so  mad  I 
could  have  cried.  "If  she  said  that,  she's  a  liar; 
that's  what  she  is!" 

Well,  I  ought  n't  to  have  called  a  lady  that,  or 
anybody,  but  I  was  so  mad  I  did  n't  think.  I  was  n't 
thinking  about  how  I  said  it,  and  when  a  fellow's 
mother  looks  at  him  the  way  my  mother  was  looking 
at  me,  and  won't  believe  him  when  he's  telling  the 
truth,  what's  he  going  to  do?  I  guess  my  mother 
was  feeling  pretty  bad  herself  or  she  would  n't  have 
said  any  such  thing  to  me  as  that  I  was  one.  Because 
I  wasn't  one!  Not  about  that!  I  had  never  hit 
Sammy  Martin.  I  had  never  done  anything  to  him 
but  give  him  candy  once  in  a  while. 

"George!"  said  my  mother,  and  she  was  sad 
about  it,  as  if  she  was  now  quite  hopeless  about  me. 
77 


SWATTY 

Then  she  went  on,  as  quietly  as  if  we  were  at  a 
funeral : 

"That  poor  child's  mother  came  here  to  beg  me 
to  protect  her  child  against  you  —  to  beg  me  to  ask 
you  not  to  harm  him  again!  You  called  him  to  the 
fence  and  struck  him  across  the  face  with  a  stick  or 
a  switch.  Oh,  don't  deny  it!  She  has  seen  you  coax 
him  to  the  fence  before  and  give  him  candy,  and 
when  he  came  crying  to  her  with  a  welt  rising  on  his 
poor  face,  he  told  her  you  had  done  it.  And  I  thought 
you  were  —  I  thought  — " 

So  then  she  cried,  and  I  could  n't  do  anything 
but  stand  there  and  feel  —  oh,  I  don't  know  how  I 
felt!  I  guess  I  had  never  felt  like  that  in  my  life.  It 
was  n't  so,  and  1  knew  it  was  n't  so,  and  nobody 
would  ever  believe  it  was  n't  so.  I  could  n't  do  any- 
thing but  stand  there  and  wish  I  was  dead  or  grown 
up  or  something.  I  just  stood  and  looked  down,  and 
once  in  a  while  I  blinked.  So  then,  after  a  while,  my 
mother  wiped  her  eyes  and  walked  past  me  without 
saying  anything  or  looking  at  me  and  went  into  the 
house,  and  I  stood  there  awhile  and  then  I  sort  of 
turned  and  went  to  the  edge  of  the  porch  and 
sneaked  around  to  the  back  yard.  It  was  n't  fair 
to  think  such  things  of  me  when  they  were  not 
so,  and  I  felt  awful  bad.  I  never  wanted  to  see 
my  mother  again.  So  then  Swatty  saw  me  and 
shouted. 

"Come  on!"  he  yelled.  "We've  got  her  done  I 
She's  a  dandy!"  , 

78 


THE  STUMP 

So  I  ran  to  where  the  capstan  was,  and  she  was  a 
dandy! 

I  guess  you  know  what  capstans  are  —  the  things 
they  use  in  moving  houses?  In  Riverbank  they 
move  a  lot  of  houses,  because  people  are  always 
wanting  to  build  other  houses  where  houses  already 
are,  and  you  can't  move  a  house  without  a  capstan. 
They  have  them  on  boats,  too,  but  not  quite  the 
same  kind.  The  house- moving  kind  is  like  a  square 
box,  without  sides.  In  the  middle,  up  and  down,  is  a 
kind  of  roller  that  the  rope  rolls  onto,  and  the  roller 
has  to  stick  up  above  the  top  of  the  box  so  there 
can  be  a  place  to  stick  a  pole  into  to  turn  the  roller. 
When  they  move  houses  they  set  the  capstan  in  the 
middle  of  the  street  a  long  way  from  the  house,  and 
carry  a  rope  back  and  fasten  it  to  the  house,  and  then 
a  horse  that  is  fastened  to  the  pole  walks  around  and 
around  the  capstan,  stepping  over  the  rope  every 
time  he  passes  it,  and  winds  up  the  rope,  and  that 
pulls  the  house.  Only  we  did  n't  have  any  horse,  so 
we  thought  maybe  we'd  use  Swatty's  cow.  But  we 
did  n't.  We  turned  the  capstan  ourselves.  All  the 
time  we  were  making  the  capstan  Swatty  said  the 
cow  would  turn  it,  but  when  we  got  it  done  he  said: 

"Who  ever  heard  of  a  cow  turning  a  capstan?" 

"I  did,"  I  said.  "In  the  Bible-book  there  is  a 
picture  of  a  cow  turning  a  capstan." 

"Well,  that  ain't  the  same  thing,"  Swatty  said. 
"That's  a  Bible-cow,  and  ours  is  part  Alderney  and 
part  Holstein." 

79 


SWATTY 

"And  this  is  n't  any  cow-capstan,  anyway," 
Bony  said.  "A  cow  could  n't  work  this  capstan, 
because  a  cow  has  two  toes,  and  she  'd  get  the  rope 
caught  between  her  toes  and  fall  and  kill  herself." 

"Whose  cow  are  you  saying  would  fall  and  kill 
herself  —  my  cow?"  Swatty  asked,  the  way  he  did 
when  he  meant:  "Take  it  back  or  I'll  lick  you!" 
Then  he  says:  "You'd  better  not  say  my  cow  would 
fall  and  kill  herself.  If  my  cow  could  n't  step  over  a 
rope  without  getting  it  between  her  toes,  I'd  take 
her  and  kill  her." 

"Aw,  you  would  not!"  I  said. 

"Yes,  I  would,  too!"  Swatty  said.  "We  had  a  cow 
once  that  could  n't  step  over  a  rope  without  getting 
it  between  her  toes,  and  my  father  took  her  down 
to  the  river  and  killed  her.  You  need  n't  say  we'd 
have  a  cow  that  can't  step  over  a  rope  — " 

"I  never  said  it,"  I  said. 

"Well,  if  you  did  n't  say  it,  who  did  say  it,  I'd 
like  to  know,"  Swatty  asked.  "Bony  did  n't  say  it 
and  you'd  better  not  say  he  said  it,  because  he 
came  over  and  helped  me  finish  the  capstan,  and 
you  stayed  in  school  and  let  us  do  it." 

"I  did  n't  stay  in  school;  I  was  kept  in." 

"Well,  you  say  you  was,  but  I  don't  have  to  be- 
lieve it,  do  I?"  Swatty  said.  "I  don't  have  to  believe 
everything  you  say  just  because  I'm  —  because  I 'm 
in  your  yard,  do  I?  " 

Well,  I  saw  Swatty  wanted  a  fight,  and  I  wanted 
a  fight  anyway.  I  felt  like  it.  So  I  said: 
80 


THE  STUMP 

"Who  are  you  calling  a  liar?" 

I  went  up  close  to  him,  and  he  went  up  close  to 
me;  and  then  I  pushed  him  and  he  pushed  me  back; 
and  then  I  hit  him  and  he  hit  me  back.  And  when  he 
had  me  down  and  asked  me  if  I  had  had  enough  and 
got  off  of  me,  we  went  ahead  with  the  capstan.  I 
was  n't  hurt  anywhere  except  on  the  inside  of  my 
cheek,  where  a  tooth  cut  it. 

The  capstan  was  a  good  one.  Swatty  showed  how 
it  worked,  and  pushed  the  pole  around,  and  it 
worked  fine.  So  then  I  got  my  sled  out  of  the  barn, 
where  it  had  been  since  last  winter,  and  we  took 
turns  being  pulled  on  the  sled.  So  then  we  wished 
we  had  a  house  to  move,  but  there  was  n't  any  house 
or  building  we  dared  move.  I  bet  we  could  have 
done  it.  So  we  looked  for  something  we  could  n't 
move  without  a  capstan,  so  we  could  use  the  capstan 
to  move  it.  There  is  no  use  having  a  capstan  if  you 
have  n't  anything  to  do  with  it.  You  might  just  as 
well  not  have  made  one.  So  I  said : 

"I'll  tell  you!  Let's  pull  up  the  old  stump  that's 
in  our  front  yard!" 

"All  right  —  let's!"  Swatty  said. 

We  had  a  lot  of  trees  in  our  yard  —  a  big  silver 
poplar  in  the  back  yard  that  was  twice  as  big  around 
as  a  barrel,  and  a  yellow-mellow  apple,  and  a  Benoni 
apple,  and  a  black-heart  cherry,  and  a  row  of  pines 
leading  down  to  the  gate,  and  big  maples  inside  the 
fence,  and  maybe  some  more.  There  were  trees  all 
over  town,  lots  of  them,  and  you  would  have  thought 
81 


SWATTY 

there  had  always  been  trees,  but  I  guess  that  is  n't 
so.  People  planted  them.  When  people  came  to 
Riverbank  and  made  a  town  of  it,  they  planted  the 
trees  because  there  were  none  when  they  came,  and  I 
guess  they  liked  it  better  with  trees  growing  than 
when  it  was  all  bare.  I  know  my  grandmother  did. 

My  grandmother  was  an  old,  old  woman,  and  she 
lived  with  us  because  the  house  had  been  built  by 
my  grandfather,  and  my  grandfather  had  planted 
the  trees.  That  was  a  long  time  before  I  was  ever 
born.  We  called  my  grandmother  "Ladylove,"  be- 
cause I  guess  that  is  what  my  grandfather  called  her. 
Nobody  ever  called  her  anything  else  but  Ladylove, 
not  "Gran'ma"  or  anything  like  that. 

I  guess  nobody  ever  loved  trees  the  way  she  loved 
them.  I  guess  she  was  always  sorry  she  had  come 
away  from  Pennsylvania  where  there  are  lots  of 
trees  and  hills.  Sometimes,  early  in  the  morning,  she 
would  come  out  on  the  porch  and  look  up  and  say, 
11 1  lift  up  mine  eyes  to  the  hills ! "  and  then  she  would 
sigh  and  shake  her  head.  That  was  because  there  was 
no  hills  in  Riverbank  when  she  lifted]  up  her  eyes 
from  our  porch,  and  I  guess  she  was  thinking  of  the 
hills  in  Pennsylvania,  because  when  she  was  a  girl 
and  lived  there,  there  were  always  hills  to  lift  up  her 
eyes  to  —  hills  that  were  covered  with  trees. 

That  was  the  way  my  grandmother  Ladylove  was, 

as  old  as  old,  and  nobody  ever  loved  trees  the  way 

she  did.  She  liked  boys  too.  She  liked  all  the  boys 

that  ever  came  to  play  with  me.  She  was  the  only 

82 


THE  STUMP 

one  that  never  scolded  me.  Plenty  of  times  when  we 
had  fresh  cookies  and  nobody  was  to  touch  a  single 
one  until  the  next  day,  Ladylove  would  see  us  play- 
ing in  the  yard  and  she  would  come  out  with  a  china 
plate  with  a  napkin  on  it  piled  up  with  cookies.  Then 
she  would  say  a  verse  of  poetry  and  give  us  the 
cookies  and  go  into  the  house  just  as  happy  as  could 
be.  Sometimes  she  would  forget  she  had  brought  us 
any  and  would  come  right  out  with  another  plateful 
and  say  the  poetry  over  again  and  be  just  as  happy 
over  that  one  as  she  was  over  the  other. 

When  I  said,  "Let's  pull  the  old  stump  that's  in 
the  front  yard,"  I  did  n't  think  anything  but  that  it 
would  be  a  good  thing  to  pull.  I  did  n't  even  know 
it  had  ever  been  a  tree;  it  had  always  been  a  stump 
since  I  was  a  little  bit  of  a  kid,  anyway.  It  was  n't 
much  of  a  stump  any  more.  It  was  only  about  as 
high  as  my  knee,  and  right  at  the  ground  it  was  only 
as  big  around  as  a  man's  knee.  Once  I  had  a  little 
hatchet,  but  it  would  n't  cut  much,  but  I  chopped 
the  stump  with  it.  1  could  only  chop  off  a  little  splin- 
ter at  a  time,  and  I  never  got  much  off.  It  only  made 
the  stump  raggedy  at  the  top.  It  was  just  an  old 
stump  that  was  n't  worth  anything  and  was  n't  any 
good  to  anybody. 

Swatty  and  Bony  and  me  started  to  move  the 
capstan  into  the  front  yard  where  the  stump  was. 
It  was  so  heavy  we  could  hardly  wiggle  it,  so  after 
we  had  moved  it  an  inch  or  two  I  said: 

"Aw!  we  can't  move  it!" 
83 


SWATTY 

So  Bony  said  the  same  thing;  but  Swatty  stood 
and  looked  at  the  capstan  awhile,  and  then  he  said: 
"Yes,  we  can  move  it,  too!  We  can  make  it  move 
itself." 

"How  can  we?" 

"You  come  ahead  and  I'll  show  you,"  he  said; 
and  he  did.  He  drove  a  stake  into  the  ground  about 
as  far  as  our  capstan  rope  would  reach,  and  fastened 
the  rope  to  it.  Then  he  made  Bony  turn  the  capstan 
pole,  and  that  wound  up  the  rope,  and  the  capstan 
just  had  to  move  toward  the  stake.  When  we  got 
it  to  the  stake  we  knocked  the  stake  out  with  an  axe 
and  put  it  in  again  farther  along.  That  way  we 
moved  the  capstan  to  where  we  wanted  it.  Swatty 
thought  of  how  to  do  it. 

So  then  we  had  the  capstan  in  the  front  yard,  and 
we  tied  the  rope  around  the  old  stump  and  tried  to 
pull  it,  but  the  capstan  just  moved  up  to  the  stump. 
So  Swatty  said  he  knew  what  was  the  matter  and 
that  we  were  all  crazy  because  we  did  n't  think  of  it 
before,  and  that  all  the  house-movers,  when  they 
were  moving  houses,  drove  stakes  in  front  of  their 
capstans  to  keep  them  from  moving,  and  stakes 
behind  them  to  keep  them  from  tipping  up. 

We  got  some  stakes  and  did  it.  Swatty  drove  the 
stakes  because  he  was  strongest,  and  anyway,  he 
knew  how  to  swing  an  axe,  because  he  had]  often 
studied  how  the  circus  roughnecks  swung  them. 
Anyway  he  said  he  had.  He  said  he  had  sat  for  over 
an  hour  and  just  studied  how  they  swung  axes  at 
84 


THE  STUMP 

stakes  and  that  then  he  asked  one  roughneck  to  let 
him  try  it,  and  he  did,  and  he  drove  over  a  hundred. 
He  said  that  while  he  was  driving  stakes  Mr.  Bar- 
num  came  out  of  the  big  tent  and  watched  him,  and 
that  he  liked  the  way  he  was  driving  stakes  so  well 
that  he  offered  him  a  hundred  dollars  a  year  just  to 
drive  stakes  for  the  circus.  So  I  asked  Swatty  if  he 
took  up  the  offer,  and  he  said  he  did.  He  said  he 
went  with  the  circus  all  over  the  United  States,  driv- 
ing stakes,  and  that  he  drove  so  many  he  got  so  he 
could  drive  a  stake  with  one  blow.  So  then  he  said 
he  went  to  Mr.  Barnum  and  asked  him  to  pay  him 
two  hundred  dollars  a  year,  but  Mr.  Barnum  said  he 
could  n't  afford  it.  He  said  Swatty  was  worth  two 
hundred  dollars  a  year  but  the  show  could  n't  afford 
it.  So,  Swatty  said,  he  came  home.  That's  what 
Swatty  said,  but  I  did  n't  hardly  believe  it.  But, 
anyway,  we  had  to  let  him  drive  the  stakes. 

Well,  the  stump  did  n't  come  out  as  easy  as  we 
had  thought  it  would.  It  was  pretty  rotten,  and  it 
pulled  off  piece  by  piece,  but  the  inside  was  tough. 
Our  rope  was  old,  too,  and  broke  nearly  every  time 
we  tautened  it.  But  it  was  good  fun,  anyway.  We 
took  turns  turning  the  capstan  pole.  One  would  turn 
and  the  other  would  keep  the  rope  on  the  stump  and 
the  other  would  be  boss  and  shout,  "Whoa!  Get  up! 
Whoa  there,  you!"  A  lot  of  boys  came  and  looked 
through  the  picket  fence  and  wished  we  would  let 
them  come  in  and  help  us  capstan  the  stump,  but 
we  would  n't.  What 's  che  use  of  having  something 

85 


SWATTY 

somebody  else  has  n't  got,  if  you  are  going  to  let 
them  have  it  too? 

Pretty  soon  we  got  the  stump  all  pulled.  There 
was  only  a  hole  where  it  had  been  and  the  rotted 
wood  was  scattered  around  on  the  grass,  and  we  felt 
pretty  good  about  it,  because  nobody  wants  old 
stumps  sticking  up  in  their  yards.  Swatty  said 
maybe  my  father  would  give  me  a  quarter  for  pull- 
ing the  stump  and  I  thought  maybe  he  would,  too. 
We  all  felt  as  if  we  had  done  something  pretty  fine, 
and  I  wished  I  could  go  and  get  my  mother  and  have 
her  come  out  and  see  how  good  our  capstan  was  and 
have  her  say,  "Why,  that's  fine,  Georgie!  I  '11  have 
your  father  give  you  a  quarter  when  he  comes 
home."  But  I  remembered  about  Mrs.  Martin.  I 
remembered  that  my  mother  would  probably  never 
think  anything  I  ever  did  again  was  any  good  at  all. 
So  I  did  n't  call  her. 

Just  then  Ladylove  —  my  grandmother  —  came 
out  of  the  side  door.  She  stood  a  moment  on  the  top 
step,  looking,  and  then  she  came  down  to  the  grass 
and  started  toward  us.  She  had  a  plate  in  her  hand, 
and  there  were  graham  crackers  on  it,  because  there 
were  no  cookies  that  day.  I  guess  she  heard  us  shout- 
ing and  thought  we  would  like  some  graham  crack- 
ers, because  we  were  boys. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  her  I  jumped  and  ran  toward  her, 
because  she  was  some  one  we  could  show  what  we 
had  done. 

"Come  here,  Ladylove,"  I  shouted.  "Come  on, 
86 


THE  STUMP 

we  want  to  show  you  what  we  did  with  our  cap- 
stan!" 

"Yes!  yes!"  she  said. 

So  I  took  the  plate  of  crackers,  and  with  the  other 
hand  I  sort  of  steadied  her  elbow,  because  our  yard 
was  n't  very  smooth  and  she  did  n't  walk  very 
steady  or  very  fast.  We  came  to  where  the  capstan 
was,  and  she  steadied  herself  with  one  hand  on  it. 

"There!"  I  said.  "See  what  we  did,  Ladylove! 
We  pulled  that  old  tree  stump  right  out  of  the 
ground.  We  got  rid  of  that  old  stump  all  right!" 

Ladylove  stood  quiet  so  long  that  I  got  frightened. 
She  looked  up  at  the  sky  and  when  she  looked  down 
at  me  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  I  could  see  them. 

"My  tree!  My  beautiful  tree!"  she  said.  "Ah, 
Georgie,  could  you  kill  my  tree?"  And  then  she 
closed  her  eyes  and  held  out  her  hands  and  said: 

"Degenerate  Douglas!  Oh,  the  unworthy  lord! 
Whom  mere  despite  of  heart  could  so  far  please 
To  level  with  the  dust  a  noble  horde, 
A  brotherhood  of  venerable  trees!" 

It  was  n't  a  horde  of  trees  at  all,  nothing  but  an 
old  rotten  stump  and  no  good  to  anybody,  but  I  felt 
awful  bad  about  it  as  soon  as  she  spoke  that  poetry 
• —  not  because  the  old  stump  was  any  good  but  be- 
cause my  grandmother  was  so  old  and  seemed  to 
think  so  much  of  the  old  stump. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  just  stood  and  did  n't 
know  what  to  say.  We  wished  she  had  scolded  us  or 
something  instead  of  feeling  that  way. 

87 


SWATTY 

"Gone!  Gone!"  she  said,  letting  her  hands  fall,  as 
if  that  old  stump  was  the  only  thing  she  ever  cared 
for.  "Gone!" 

"It  is  not  now  as  it  has  been  of  yore; 
Turn  wheresoe'er  I  may, 
By  night  or  day, 
The  things  which  I  have  seen  I  now  can  see  no  more!" 

Well,  we  could  n't  say  anything,  could  we,  when 
she  felt  like  that?  We  could  just  feel  mean.  It  did  n't 
matter  that  we  knew  it  was  just  an  old,  rotten,  no 
good  stump,  because  she  thought  it  was  a  tree  and 
that  we  had  cut  it  down.  She  shook  her  head,  and 
then: 

"Some  they  have  died,  and  some  they  have  left  me, 
And  some  are  taken  from  me;  all  are  departed; 
All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  faces." 

So  then  she  turned  and  walked  away  with  her 
head  bent  down  and  the  tears  running  down  her 
cheeks,  and  I  stood  there  with  the  plate  of  graham 
crackers  in  my  hand  and  did  n't  know  what  to  do 
or  what  to  say,  and  Bony  stood  and  looked  kind  of 
scared.  I  did  n't  dare  look  after  my  grandmother.  I 
just  felt  mean  and  sneaky  and  ashamed  and  sort  of 
miserable  about  everything,  because  I  knew  she 
thought  I  had  done  it  when  I  knew  I  ought  n't  to 
have  done  it.  At  the  step  of  the  side  door  she  stopped 
and  looked  back  and  then  went  into  the  house,  all 
old  and  sad-looking.  I  guessed  I  had  broken  her 
heart,  she  felt  so  bad  about  it. 

So  then  Bony  started  to  go  home.  He  did  n't  say 
88 


THE  STUMP 

anything,  but  he  sort  of  edged  off  as  if  he  wanted  to 
sneak  away  and  get  out  of  any  trouble  I  was  in. 
Swatty  spoke  right  up. 

1 '  You  come  back  here ! "  he  said. ' '  You  come  back, 
or  I'll  show  you!" 

I  was  glad  to  have  anybody  say  anything,  even 
that. 

"Aw,  I  got  to  go  home,"  Bony  said.  But  he  came 
back.  He  knew  what  Swatty  would  do  to  him  if  he 
did  n't.  So  then  Swatty  made  a  face  at  the  pieces  of 
old  stump. 

"Garsh!"  he  said.  "Garsh!  who'd  of  thunk  any- 
body cared  for  that  old  stump?  We  did  n't  know 
Ladylove  cared  that  much  for  it,  did  we?  Well, 
come  on!" 

"Come  on  where?"  Bony  sort  of  whined. 

' '  Where  do  you  think  ?  ' '  Swatty  asked. ' '  What  do 
I  care  where?  Anywhere  we  can  get  a  tree  to  plant  — • 
that's  where.  We'll  get  a  big  tree,  like  those  maple 
trees,  and  we'll  fetch  it  here  and  plant  it;  that's 
what  we  '11  do !  I  '11  tell  you  what.  We  '11  take  the  cap- 
stan rope  and  go  out  to  the  cow  pasture  and  dig  up 
a  big  tree  and  let  my  cow  drag  it  here.  We  '11  play 
she's  a  team  of  oxen." 

Well,  we  got  to  fighting  about  who  would  drive 
the  team  of  oxen  and  who  would  ride  on  the  tree, 
and  we  forgot  all  about  being  ashamed  of  pulling  up 
the  stump.  We  took  a  spade  and  the  axe,  and  went 
out  to  the  pasture,  but  when  we  saw  how  big  a  big 
tree  was,  we  guessed  we'd  get  one  that  was  n't  so 
89 


SWATTY 

big,  and  then  we  guessed  we  'd  get  one  that  was  n't  as 
big  as  that,  because  Swatty  said  he  did  n't  want  his 
cow  to  strain  herself  pulling  it.  So  the  one  we  got 
was  n't  very  big,  after  all,  but  it  was  more  of  a  tree 
than  that  old  rotten  stump  was.  It  was  a  willow 
tree.  We  got  a  willow  tree  after  we  'd  tried  to  dig  up 
the  roots  of  an  elm  tree.  Swatty  said  that  a  willow 
tree  did  n't  need  any  roots. 

The  cow  did  n't  like  pulling  a  tree  very  well,  but 
she  got  used  to  it  before  we  got  home  —  only  we 
could  n't  ride  on  such  a  little  tree.  We  had  to  take 
turns  being  the  ox-driver.  But  we  got  home  all  right 
and  dug  a  hole  where  the  old  stump  had  been,  and 
we  planted  the  tree.  She  looked  bully.  She  looked 
almost  like  a  real  tree.  So  then  I  went  into  the  house 
to  get  my  grandmother,  to  show  her,  so  she  would  n't 
feel  so  bad  about  the  old  stump. 

I  guess  she  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  She  was 
sitting  by  the  window,  reading  the  limber-backed 
psalm-book,  and  when  I  came  in  she  looked  up  and 
smiled. 

"Come  on  out  in  the  yard,"  Lady  love,"  I  said.  "I 
want  to  show  you  what  me  and  Bony  and  Swatty 
did." 

She  closed  the  psalm-book  with  her  glasses  inside 
and  put  the  book  on  her  sewing-table  and  went  with 
me.  I  took  her  right  to  where  the  tree  was. 

"There!"  I  said.  "Me  and  Bony  and  Swatty 
planted  a  new  tree  for  you  where  that  old  stump 
was." 

90 


THE  STUMP 

My  grandmother  looked  at  the  tree.  Her  eyes 
were  full  of  tears  again,  but  they  were  n't  the  kind 
that  worried  me.  She  held  out  a  hand  toward  the 
tree  and  said  some  more  poetry: 

"What  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree? 
Buds,  which  the  breath  of  summer  days 
Shall  lengthen  into  leafy  sprays; 
Boughs,  where  the  thrush  with  crimson  breast 
Shall  haunt  and  sing  and  hide  her  nest. 

We  plant  upon  the  sunny  lea 
A  shadow  for  the  noontide  hour, 
A  shelter  from  the  summer  shower, 

When  we  plant  the  apple  tree." 

Well,  it  was  n't  an  apple  tree,  but  I  did  n't  care, 
and  neither  did  Swatty  or  Bony.  I  was  just  glad  be- 
cause Ladylove  was  glad,  and  I  guessed  she  knew 
it  was  n't  an  apple  tree,  because  when  you  use  po- 
etry you  have  to  use  the  kind  there  is,  and  it  don't 
always  fit.  But  this  one  fitted  close  enough  to  show 
how  happy  Ladylove  was.  She  was  very  happy,  and 
when  she  had  said  the  verses  she  laughed  and  kissed 
Swatty's  hand,  and  then  Bony's  and  then  mine,  and 
took  her  skirt  in  two  hands  and  made  us  a  curtsy 
and  went  away  as  happy  as  anything.  I  felt  pretty 
good. 

So  just  then  my  father  came  home,  because  it  was 
supper-time.  He  came  into  the  yard,  and  he  walked 
across  the  grass  to  where  we  were.  He  looked  sort  of 
sober,  the  way  fathers  do  when  they  want  to  know 
what  their  sons  have  been  doing. 

"What's  that?"  he  asked,  short. 


SWATTY 

"It's  a  capstan,"  I  said.  "Me  and  Bony  and 
Swatty  made  it." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 

"I  don't  know.  Maybe  nothing." 

"Hm!  And  what  is  this  tree  doing  here?" 

"Why — "  I  said,  and  then  I  did  n't  know  what 
to  say. 

"Why,  there  was  an  old  stump  here,"  said  Swatty, 
"and  we  pulled  it  up  with  the  capstan,  and  Lady- 
love, she  came  out,  and  she  felt  pretty  bad  — " 

"She  couldn't  remember  it  wasn't  a  tree  any 
more,"  said  Bony. 

"And  so  we  went  and  got  a  tree  and  planted  it  for 
her,"  I  said. 

My  father  looked  at  me.  Then  he  turned  away. 

"Don't  do  any  damage  with  that  capstan  thing," 
he  said,  and  that  was  all. 

Well,  nobody  said  anything  at  supper,  so  after 
supper  I  went  out  and  sat  on  the  porch,  and  Herb 
Schwartz  had  come  over  to  talk  with  Fan  awhile  and 
they  were  there  too.  So  pretty  soon  my  father  came 
out  and  lighted  a  cigar  and  gave  Herb  one.  Then  my 
mother  came  out  and  I  guessed  I  would  go  into  the 
back  yard  or  somewhere,  because  I  knew  she  would 
tell  my  father  about  what  Mrs.  Martin  had  lied 
about  me  hurting  her  crazy  boy.  So  I  went  and 
sat  on  the  woodshed  step  awhile,  because  if  my 
father  was  going  to  lick  me  he  would  do  it  out  there 
anyway. 

But  he  did  n't  come,  so  after  a  while  I  went 
92 


THE  STUMP 

around  front  again.  I  stopped  by  the  vines  at  the 
end  of  the  porch,  because  my  father  was  talking. 

"And  I  will  tell  you  something  else,"  he  was  say- 
ing. So  he  told  them  about  the  stump,  and  how  we 
had  pulled  it  up  and  then  gone  and  got  another  tree 
because  Ladylove  felt  so  bad  about  it.  "And  Mrs. 
Martin  nor  any  one  else  need  tell  me  that  a  boy  that 
would  do  that  would  torment  a  crippled  child,"  my 
father  said.  "I  think  I  know  my  son  George  fairly 
well.  What  did  George  say  about  it?" 

"He  said  Mrs.  Martin  —  lied,"  said  my  mother. 

"And  she  probably  did,"  said  my  father.  "Unin- 
tentionally but  none  the  less  wickedly.  I  am  going  to 
see  her.  I  think  she  is  going  to  apologize." 

So  I  felt  bully  about  that,  and  my  father  went 
down  the  walk  and  mother  went  into  the  house.  I 
felt  bully  because  father  was  right.  Only  I  was  n't 
the  one  that  thought  of  planting  the  new  tree.  That 
was  Swatty.  But  I  guess  I  'd  have  thought  of  it  if 
Swatty  had  n't. 

I  was  just  going  to  go  up  on  the  porch  when  Fan 
said  something.  What  she  said  was: 

"Poor  father!  The  way  he  lets  Georgie  behave 
and  then  stands  up  for  him!" 

"Why,  Fan,"  Herb  said,  "you  don't  think  George 
did  anything  of  the  sort  Mrs.  Martin  said,  do  you?" 

"1  would  n't  put  it  beyond  him,"  Fan  said. 

"That's  not  fair!  That's  unjust!"  Herb  said. 

"Oh!  I'm  unfair,  am  I?  I'm  unjust,  am  I?"  Fan 
flared  up. 

93 


SWATTY 

"You  are  if  you  say  such  things  about  George," 
Herb  said,  and  he  said  it  out  flat,  too,  as  if  he  meant 
it. 

"Oh!"  Fan  said.  "The  last  time  I  was  jealous. 
Now  I  am  unjust!  I'm  sure  I  thank  you  for  your 
opinion  of  me — " 

"And,  now,  Frances,"  said  Herb,  standing  up  be- 
cause Fan  was,  "you  are  unfair  and  unjust  to  me. 
Either  that  or  frivolous." 

"Oh!"  Fan  cried  out  and  she  slung  something  on 
the  porch  that  bounced  and  rolled.  It  came  through 
the  vines  and  to  where  I  was,  and  I  picked  it  up.  It 
was  her  engagement  ring,  but  she  did  n't  care  where 
it  went,  because  she  went  slamming  into  the  house, 
and  Herb  went  stamping  to  the  gate  and  out  of  the 
yard. 

So  I  stood  there  and  looked  at  the  ring  and  felt 
pretty  sick,  because  it  was  just  because  Herb 
thought  I  was  n't  a  liar  and  a  mean  cripple-torturer 
that  he  had  stood  up  for  me.  And,  just  because  I 
was  n't,  his  wedding  was  off  again  and  nobody  could 
tell  when  me  and  Swatty  would  get  his  tricycle. 


V 

SCRATCH-CAT 

WELL,  when  mother  heard  that  Herb  and  Fan  had 
had  another  fight  she  was  so  hurt  by  it  she  just  set 
down  and  cried  and  said,  "Fan!  Fan!  I  don't  know 
what  is  going  to  become  of  you  with  that  temper 
of  yours,  because  Herbert  Schwartz  is  one  of  the 
finest  young  men  in  the  whole  world  and  if  you  keep 
on  you'll  delineate  his  affections  away  from  you  en- 
tirely forever,"  or  something  like  that. 

And  it  did  look  like  it.  Professor  Martin's  leg 
did  n't  get  any  better  and  he  had  to  go  over  to  the 
hospital  at  Chicago  to  have  it  broke  again  and  fixed 
and  Herb  was  made  a  regular  professor  at  our  school 
and  principal  of  it,  and  every  day  he  used  to  come 
into  our  room  and  talk  awhile  with  Miss  Carter,  and 
walk  home  with  her.  I  tell  you  it  looked  mighty  bad 
for  Fan,  and  I  did  n't  blame  Herb,  because  Miss 
Carter  was  nice.  She  was  nice  for  a  teacher,  I  mean, 
and  sweet  and  pretty  and  everything. 

Well,  I  had  the  engagement  ring.  I  did  n't  know 
whether  it  was  mine  or  whose  it  was,  because  Fan 
had  thrown  it  away  and  Herb  had  n't  bothered  to 
pick  it  up.  So  it  looked  as  if  it  was  mine,  because 
finders  is  keepers.  So  I  asked  Swatty.  So  Swatty 
wanted  to  look  at  the  ring  and  when  he  saw  it  had  a 
diamond  in  it  he  said  it  was  my  ring,  because  Herb 

95 


SWATTY 

and  Fan  had  thrown  it  away,  but  that  half  of  it  was 
his,  because  Herb  was  as  much  Swatty's  brother  as 
Fan  was  my  sister,  and  if  they  had  of  had  the  fight 
on  Herb's  porch  instead  of  Fan's  porch,  it  would  of 
been  Swatty  that  found  the  ring.  So  we  had  it  in 
pardnership  and  said  we  would  keep  it,  because  if 
Herb  got  engaged  again  to  Fan  or  to  Miss  Carter  or 
anybody  we  could  trade  it  to  him  for  his  two-seat 
tricycle,  maybe. 

Bony  was  sitting  there  all  the  time,  listening  to 
us,  so  all  at  once  he  said : 

"Ain't  any  of  the  ring  going  to  be  mine?" 

The  reason  he  said  it  was  because  most  of  the 
things  we  have  we  have  sort  of  in  cahoots,  the  three 
of  us. 

"Garsh,  no,  Bony,"  Swatty  said.  "We'd  like  to 
have  you  part  own  it  but  you  ain't  got  no  excuse  to. 
Herb  ain't  your  brother,  and  Fan  ain't  your  sister, 
like  they  are  mine  and  Georgie's,  are  they?  You 
ain't  related  to  the  ring  no  way.  We  wish  he  was, 
don't  we,  Georgie?  but  he  ain't." 

Well,  Bony  was  sort  of  mad  at  it,  but  it  was  n't 
our  fault.  So  then  Swatty  said  to  me: 

"  I  ain't  going  to  play  with  your  sister  any  more." 

"Why  ain't  you?"  I  asked  him. 

"Because  I  ain't,"  he  said.  "If  my  brother  Herb 
ain't  good  enough  for  your  sister  Fan,  then  I  ain't 
good  enough  to  play  with  Lucy.  And  I  won't." 

Well,  I  knew  what  he  meant,  even  if  he  didn't  say 
it  out  in  words.  He  meant  that  he  had  been  having 
96 


SCRATCH-CAT 

Lucy  for  his  secret  girl,  like  I  wanted  to  have  Mamie 
Little  for  mine,  and  now  he  was  n't  going  to  have 
her  any  more  because  Fan  had  been  mean  to  Herb. 

"Well,  1  don't  blame  you,"  I  said.  "I  wouldn't 
either." 

So  none  of  us  said  anything  for  a  while.  Then  all 
at  once  Bony  said  something. 

"Say!"  he  said. 

"Say  it  yourself  and  see  how  you  like  it,"  Swatty 
said. 

"Why,  say!"  Bony  said,  getting  red  in  the  face 
and  digging  into  the  grass  with  his  toe;  "if  —  if  you 
don't  want  to  play  with  her,  can  I  play  with  her?" 

He  meant  with  Lucy.  He  meant  could  he  have 
Lucy  for  his  girl  if  Swatty  did  n't  want  her  any  more, 
only  he  did  n't  say  it  right  out,  of  course.  So  Swatty 
said  he  could.  He  said  he  did  n't  want  her  and  Bony 
could  have  her. 

"Well,  then—"  Bony  said.  "Well,  then,  I'd 
ought  to  be  part  owner  of  the  ring." 

So  we  talked  it  over  and  me  and  Swatty  thought 
that  would  be  all  right,  because  if  Bony  was  n't  a 
brother  or  sister  of  Herb  or  Fan  he  was  going  to  have 
Lucy  for  his  girl  and  Lucy  was  my  sister  and  Fan's. 
So  we  told  Bony  he  was  third  pardner  in  the  ring. 

I  guess  Bony  felt  pretty  set  up  and  proud  to  have 
a  girl  that  Swatty  had  had,  when  he  had  never  had 
any  girl  before.  Right  away  he  began  to  get  mad 
when  we  said  Lucy  was  his  girl,  and  that's  a  good 
sign,  because  that's  the  way  fellows  feel. 
97 


SWATTY 

But  girls  don't  feel  that  way  when  they  have  fel- 
lows. Right  away  they  begin  to  wiggle  their  skirts 
when  they  walk,  and  want  their  mothers  to  curl 
their  hair  every  day,  and  put  fresh  hair-bows  on 
them.  So  they  start  right  in  saying  how  they  hate 
the  fellow  that's  their  fellow;  but  they  take  slate 
pencils  and  apples  and  things  from  him  when  he 
gives  them  on  the  sly,  and  they  begin  writing  notes 
to  him  in  school,  like  "Don't  you  think  you  're  smart 
with  your  new  shoes  on,"  and  things  like  that.  So  he 
feels  pretty  good  after  all,  and  gives  her  apples  when 
nobody  is  looking,  and  pushes  her  around  mean-like 
when  anybody  does  look. 

But  she  don't  mind  being  pushed  around,  because 
that's  one  way  she  knows  he's  her  fellow.  So,  when 
there  is  a  party,  she  is  the  one  he  drops  a  pillow  be- 
fore, and  if  she  don't  kiss  him,  all  right  for  her!  But 
mostly  she  does.  She  lets  on  that  she  hates  it,  but 
she  don't.  She  likes  it. 

Well,  I  guess  one  reason  Swatty  was  glad  to  get 
rid  of  Lucy  was  because  Swatty  did  n't  care  for  kiss- 
ing games  anyway,  and  it  was  n't  much  fun  for  him 
to  have  a  girl,  because  nobody  hardly  dared  yell  at 
him: 

"Swatty!  Swatty!  Swatty! 
Lucy  she  is  your  girl!" 

He  was  too  good  a  fighter.  And  half  the  fun  of  hav- 
ing a  girl  is  getting  mad  because  they  yell  it  at  you. 
And,  anyway,  Swatty  was  sort  of  rough  to  have 
Lucy  for  his  girl,  and  she  did  n't  like  to  have  him  for 
98 


SCRATCH-CAT 

a  fellow  very  much.  As  soon  as  school  was  out 
Swatty  would  begin  clod  fighting  with  the  Graveyard 
Gang,  or  make  a  bee-line  for  the  baseball  lot,  or  get 
up  a  good  fight.  He  never  wanted  to  sort  of  walk  on 
the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  when  the  girls  were  walking 
on  the  middle  of  it,  and  cut  up  funny  to  make  them 
look  and  giggle.  It  was  boys  he  liked  to  push  around, 
and  not  girls. 

One  reason  Lucy  did  n't  care  much  to  have  him 
for  her  fellow  was  because  his  father  and  mother 
were  German,  and  none  of  the  girls  like  a  Dutchy 
for  a  fellow,  because  lots  of  Dutchies  worked  in  the 
sawmills  and  could  n't  talk  good  English.  But 
Swatty's  father  did  n't  work  in  a  sawmill;  he  was  a 
tailor.  But  he  was  a  Dutchy  just  the  same,  and  when 
the  fellows  got  mad  at  Swatty  sometimes  they  would 
yell: 

"Dutchy!  Dutchy!  Stuffed  with  straw 
Can't  say  nothing  but  'Yaw!  yaw!  yaw!'" 

Well,  when  I  had  time  to  think  it  over  I  thought  it 
was  funny  that  Swatty  had  let  Bony  have  a  third 
partnership  in  the  engagement  ring  as  easy  as  he 
had.  And  then  one  day  I  found  out  why  it  was.  It 
shows  how  slick  Swatty  was  to  keep  a  secret  or 
anything. 

The  vacation  before  the  time  I  'm  telling  about  — 
which  was  almost  vacation  time  again  —  there  was 
a  new  girl  came  to  Riverbank.  She  lived  in  a  little 
house  across  Main  Street  that  had  a  picket  fence 
and  a  yard  that  ran  mostly  down  the  gully  toward 

99 


SWATTY 

Front  Street,  and  the  first  I  knew  about  her  was 
one  day  when  I  had  to  go  down  town  on  an  errand 
and  went  past  her  house. 

I  had  on  some  new  shoes,  so  I  knew  everybody 
would  see  them  and  be  thinking  of  them,  and  I  felt 
pretty  mean;  and  when  I  went  by  the  little  house 
the  girl  was  behind  the  picket  fence,  looking  out. 
So  I  made  a  face  at  her,  because  it  was  none  of  her 
business  if  I  did  have  on  new  shoes. 

It  was  summer,  of  course,  and  hot;  but  the  girl 
had  on  a  woolen  dress  —  red  and  black  checks  — 
and  it  fitted  her  pretty  tight  all  over,  and  was  too 
short  and  little,  so  that  it  was  tight  like  skin,  and 
her  wrists  stuck  out  too  far.  She  was  barefoot,  too, 
and  that  was  funny,  because  girls  don't  go  barefoot. 
It  was  as  funny  to  see  her  barefoot  as  to  see  me  with 
shoes  on. 

I  was  going  to  yell  something  at  her,  but  I  did  n't, 
I  only  made  a  face  at  her.  But  she  did  n't  make  one 
back  at  me.  She  just  looked. 

She  was  n't  like  any  girl  in  Riverbank  that  I  ever 
saw.  She  was  brown  —  almost  like  an  Indian  —  but 
she  had  reddish  cheeks,  and  her  hair  was  as  black 
as  tar  and  cut  short,  like  a  boy's,  only  it  was  banged 
in  front,  and  her  bangs  were  so  long  they  came  down 
to  her  eyes,  and  were  cut  as  straight  as  a  string. 

She  stood  behind  the  picket  fence  and  just  looked 

at  me,  and  I  did  n't  like  it.  Her  eyes  were  like  big 

black  marbles  and  her  mouth  like  a  painted  red.  So 

I  whistled  and  looked  the  other  way  and  the  first 

100 


SCRATCH-CAT 

thing  I  knew  she  was  out  of  the  gate  and  after  me. 
I  tried  to  run,  but  she  cornered  me  and  took  me  by 
the  hair  and  jerked  me  back  and  forth.  I  thought 
she  was  going  to  jerk  my  head  off.  So  I  pulled  loose 
and  ran,  because  no  girl  can  jerk  me  around  by  the 
hair  like  that.  So  all  she  got  for  her  smarty  business 
was  just  a  handful  of  hair  or  two.  And  who  cares 
for  a  handful  of  hair? 

Well,  you  bet  I  got  even  with  her,  all  right!  I 
never  went  past  her  house  alone  after  that. 

So  that 's  the  way  she  was.  She  stayed  in  her  yard, 
and  when  a  boy  came  along  she  would  jump  out  and 
grab  him  by  the  hair,  or  slap  him,  and  chase  him 
away  from  in  front  of  her  house.  She  was  a  tartar, 
all  right.  She  was  like  a  spider  that  is  always  wait- 
ing and  comes  out  and  grabs  flies;  only  what  she 
grabbed  was  n't  flies  —  it  was  boys.  So  we  all  got 
afraid  of  her,  and  we  did  n't  dast  go  past  her 
house  unless  we  were  two  or  three  together.  And 
then  we  generally  went  round  some  other  way. 
Except  Swatty. 

Because  one  day  Swatty  he  went  past  her  house, 
and  she  come  out  and  was  going  to  pull  his  hair,  like 
she  did  the  rest  of  us ;  and  when  she  came  at  him  he 
backed  up  against  the  fence,  and  when  she  reached 
out  for  his  hair  he  hit  her  hand  away  with  one  hand 
and  slapped  her  on  the  face  good  and  plenty.  He 
slapped  her  two  or  three  times  and  dared  her  to 
touch  him.  So  she  did  n't  say  anything,  and  Swatty 
did  n't  say  anything,  and  they  just  stood  there. 
101 


SWATTY 

And  pretty  soon  Swatty  went  on  downtown.  So  she 
just  stood  there. 

Well,  me  and  Bony  used  to  play  with  girls  some- 
times because  they  let  us  be  the  husbands  and 
fathers,  and  boss  them  around  and  whip  the  chil- 
dren. So  when  we  did  Swatty  used  to  come  along. 
Mostly  he  would  sit  and  whittle  until  me  and  Bony 
got  through,  but  sometimes  he  would  be  the  police- 
man to  arrest  the  husbands  when  they  got  drunk, 
or  a  pirate,  or  an  Indian  lurking  to  scalp  the  wives, 
or  a  'rangatang  to  carry  the  children  off. 

I  guess  the  girls  wished  he  would  n't  come,  be- 
cause a  'rangatang  is  such  an  interruption  to  plain 
housekeeping,  and  pirates  and  policemen  are  an 
awful  nuisance  to  mothers  who  want  to  bring  up  a 
peaceful  family  and  don't  want  their  husbands 
taken  to  jail  just  when  the  mud  pies  are  cooked  and 
dinner  is  ready.  But  they  could  n't  help  it,  because 
if  they  did  n't  let  him  me  and  Bony  would  go  where 
Swatty  went. 

Well,  one  time  when  teacher  kept  Swatty  in  school 
to  have  the  principal  lick  him,  she  went  out  to  get 
the  principal  and  locked  Swatty  in  the  room,  and 
he  climbed  out  of  the  window  onto  a  maple  tree 
branch  and  got  away.  So  the  principal  licked  him 
the  next  day.  Anyway,  the  trees  darkened  the 
room  all  up,  so  they  had  the  janitor  cut  down  the 
two  trees  and  they  fell  down  the  bank  back  of  the 
schoolhouse. 

So  that  day  the  leaves  were  only  beginning  to 
102 


SCRATCH-CAT 

wither,  and  the  branches  of  the  trees  made  a  bully 
place  to  play  in.  So  Mamie  Little  and  my  sister  and 
me  and  Bony  went  right  out  there  after  dinner  and 
played  house ;  and  when  Swatty  had  been  licked,  or 
whatever  he  had  been  kept  in  for,  he  came  there 
too.  We  made  houses  among  the  branches  and 
leaves,  and  were  fathers  and  mothers;  and  Swatty 
had  a  lair  and  was  a  'rangatang,  and  hung  by  his 
knees  and  swang  from  branch  to  branch. 

It  was  pretty  good  fun,  even  if  it  was  playing  with 
girls,  because  it  was  a  jungle,  and  me  and  Bony 
hunted  the  wild  'rangatang  between  meals ;  and  we 
were  playing  along  all  right  when  I  saw  my  sister 
standing  and  looking.  I  guess  you  know  how  a  girl 
stands  and  looks  —  the  way  a  cow  does  —  when  she 
don't  like  something.  So  I  looked,  and  out  in  the 
street  was  the  girl  in  the  red  and  black  check  woolen 
dress.  She  was  just  standing  and  looking  back  at 
my  sister.  It  made  my  sister  mighty  mad.  I  guess 
girls  can  look  the  things  boys  generally  holler  at 
each  other.  So  my  sister  said : 

"Bony,  I  don't  want  that  girl  to  look  at  me!" 

So  Bony  looked,  and  when  he  saw  who  was  looking 
he  said : 

"Aw!  let  her  look!  Let  her  look,  if  she  wants  to. 
She  ain't  hurting  anybody!" 

So  then  my  sister  got  awful  mad.  She  stamped  her 
foot. 

"I  won't  let  her  look  at  me  that  way." 

So  she  started  on  a  run  for  the  girl.  She  did  n't 
103 


SWATTY 

get  quite  up  to  her.  Before  she  got  quite  to  her,  the 
girl  sort  of  flashed  up  to  my  sister.  That  was  about 
all  I  could  see.  The  next  I  saw,  she  was  standing  just 
where  she  had  always  been,  and  my  sister  was 
flopped  down  on  the  ground  with  her  arms  over 
her  head,  yelling  bloody  murder.  So  I  jumped  out 
of  the  tree  and  ran  up  to  my  sister.  Her  face  was  all 
scratched  up.  There  were  four  long  scratches  on 
each  side  of  her  face  where  the  girl  had  raked  her 
with  her  claws.  So  Mamie  Little  came  running  too, 
and  helped  my  sister  up. 

"If  I  was  a  boy,"  she  said,  "I  would  n't  let  any- 
body do  that  to  my  sister  unless  I  was  a  'fraid-cat." 

"Aw!  who's  a  'fraid-cat?"  I  said.  I  wasn't  no 
more  'fraid-cat  than  she  was,  but  I  guess  I  knew 
that  girl. 

So  Mamie  Little  took  my  sister  by  the  arm. 

"Come  on,"  she  said.  "  I  guess  everybody  around 
here  is  a  'fraid-cat.  You  and  me  will  be  mad  at  them 
and  stay  mad  for  ever  and  ever!" 

So  I  had  to  go.  I  was  n't  going  to  hit  the  girl.  I 
just  thought  I'd  sort  of  push  her  away  —  only 
maybe  a  little  rough  —  until  I  pushed  her  inside 
her  gate,  so  I  could  show  a  smarty  like  Mamie  Little 
who  was  a  'fraid-cat  and  who  was  n't.  I  walked  over 
to  where  the  girl  was,  and  she  waited  for  me.  All  I 
had  time  to  see  was  the  girl's  eyes  turning  to  some- 
thing like  prickly  black  fire,  and  something  plumped 
against  me  like  a  bag  of  flour  shot  out  of  a  sling.  It 
was  as  if  her  body  hit  against  me  everywhere  at 
104 


SCRATCH-CAT 

once.  And  then  something  grabbed  my  hair  and 
yanked  me,  and  I  felt  scratches  burning  on  my  face, 
and,  somehow,  I  was  on  the  ground,  yelling  and 
holding  my  arms  above  my  head.  The  girl  was  stand- 
ing where  she  had  always  been.  I  heard  Mamie 
Little  and  my  sister  yelling: 

' '  Scratch-Cat !  Scratch-Cat ! " 

Swatty  came  on  the  run.  He  was  pretty  mad, 
because  him  and  me  was  chums,  and  I  was  his  cow- 
cousin  and  his  double  Dutch  uncle,  and  he  ran  right 
past  me  and  up  to  the  girl.  He  gave  her  a  push  with 
his  hand,  and  it  sort  of  pushed  her  around ;  but  she 
straightened  up  again  and  just  looked  at  him. 

"You  scratch-cat!"  he  said,  as  mean  as  he  knew 
how.  "Who  are  you  scratching  around  here,  I'd 
like  to  know?" 

I  thought  she'd  jump  on  him  and  claw  him,  like 
she  did  me;  but  she  did  n't. 

"I  ain't  going  to  hurt  you,"  she  said. 

"You  bet  you  ain't!"  Swatty  said.  "  'Cause  why? 
'Cause  you  darsent,  that's  why!"  Only  he  said, 
"'Cors  why?"  like  he  always  does. 

She  did  n't  say  she  did  dare,  and  she  did  n't  say 
she  did  n't  dare.  She  said: 

"Come  over  in  my  yard  and  play  with  me.  Don't 
you  play  with  them.  I  can  play  good." 

So  Swatty  pushed  her  again,  and  she  stepped 
back  a  step. 

"Don't  you  play  with  girls!"  she  said.  "You 
come  and  play  with  me." 

105 


SWATTY 

"Aw!  you're  a  girl  too,"  Swatty  said.  "Go  awrn 
home  and  play  with  yourself." 

So  he  gave  her  another  push.  She  looked  as  if  she 
had  n't  ever  thought  that  she  was  a  girl  before.  She 
said: 

"  I  can  beat  you  running.  I  can  beat  you  jumping. 
I  can  beat  you  climbing  trees.  I  can  beat  you  skin- 
ning the  cat.  I  can  chin  myself  ten  times  more  than 
you  can.  I  can  stand  on  my  head  longer  than  you 
can." 

"Go  awrn  home!"  Swatty  said,  and  gave  her 
another  shove. 

She  stepped  back  again. 

"Come  on  and  play  in  my  yard,"  she  said  again. 
"I  can  throw  you  any  hold  you  want.  I  can  fight 
you  and  lick  you." 

"Becors  you're  a  scratch-cat,"  Swatty  said,  and 
pushed  her  again. 

"  I  can  lick  you  without  scratching,"  the  girl  said. 

"Well,  then,  do  it!"  said  Swatty.  "Go  on  and  do 
it,  why  don't  you?  I  want  to  see  you  do  it!" 

So  each  time  he  said  it  he  gave  her  a  push. 

"I  won't!"  she  said.  "I  ain't  going  to  fight  you." 

"You  darsent!" 

"I  ain't  going  to!" 

"You  don't  dare!" 

"I  ain't  going  to!" 

So  every  time  Swatty  said  anything  he  shoved 
her  again,  and  pretty  soon  he  had  her  pushed  clear 
back  against  the  fence  of  her  yard,  and  he  left  her 
1 06 


SCRATCH-CAT 

there  and  came  back.  We  went  on  playing.  But  every 
once  in  a  while  we  thought  of  her,  and  when  we 
looked  she  was  standing  just  where  Swatty  had  left 
her. 

Well,  we  found  out  her  name  was  Dell  Brown, 
because  my  father  went  to  speak  to  her  father  about 
the  way  she  scratched  my  sister.  Her  father's  name 
was  Reverend  Brown;  but  he  had  adopted  her  be- 
cause her  folks  died,  and  she  was  a  sore  trial,  but 
no  doubt  willed  by  the  Almighty.  The  Reverend 
Brown  was  a  sort  of  preacher,  and  had  an  old  white 
horse  and  drove  around  the  country  and  preached 
wherever  he  thought  they  needed  preaching.  Mrs. 
Brown  was  a  sort  of  invalid  and  old,  like  Reverend 
Brown  was,  and  he  was  almost  too  old  to  adopt 
Dell  Brown  for  his  daughter.  He  had  ought  to  have 
adopted  her  for  his  granddaughter  when  he  was 
adopting. 

So  he  said  he  would  pray  about  it,  and  Mrs.  Brown 
said  she  could  n't  understand  Dell  Brown,  hardly, 
why  she  had  the  fighting  streak  in  her,  because  at 
home  she  was  all  love  and  affection  to  Mrs.  Brown, 
and  a  word  made  the  child  weep.  I  guess  Dell  Brown 
had  just  so  much  fight  in  her  and  had  to  get  it  fought 
out*  I  guess  she  thought  it  was  better  to  go  out  and 
fight  than  to  fight  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brown.  Maybe  she 
was  sort  of  fond  of  them  because  they  were  funny 
and  old  and  had  adopted  her.  I  guess  she  was  like 
George  Washington:  she  was  good  and  nice,  but  she 
liked  to  fight. 

107 


SWATTY 

Well,  after  while  school  started  again.  I  kind  of 
hated  to  go,  because  I  always  hate  to,  but  more 
because  I  thought  Dell  Brown  would  go  to  school. 
So  she  did,  and  the  first  time  she  got  me  alone  she 
took  me  by  the  hair  and  walloped  me  good.  I  had  n't 
done  nothing  to  her,  except  maybe  yell  "Scratch- 
Cat  ! "  at  her  sometimes  when  I  was  far  enough  away. 
So  after  that  I  did  n't  go  to  school  very  early,  but 
kind  of  hung  around  until  Dell  Brown  went  in,  and 
then 'I  went  in.  I  never  told  on  her.  If  she  says  I  did 
she  tells  what  ain't  so.  It  was  Toady  Williams. 

Me  and  Swatty  was  kept  in  that  day,  like  we 
'most  always  were,  and  Bony  was  waiting  outside. 
So  Miss  Murphy  thought  it  was  n't  any  use  talking 
to  Dell  Brown  any  more ;  it  was  time  to  rawhide  her. 
She  got  the  rawhide  out  of  the  closet,  and  told  Dell 
Brown  to  come  to  the  back  of  the  room,  and 
Dell  Brown  went.  Miss  Murphy  put  one  hand  on  Dell 
Brown's  shoulder,  and  lifted  up  the  whip  to  switch 
her  across  the  legs,  and  the  next  thing  she  did  was 
to  let  out  a  scream,  and  you  could  n't  have  believed 
her  dress  could  be  torn  so  in  just  a  second  if  you 
had  n't  seen  it.  Her  hands  were  beginning  to  get 
red  in  streaks  where  Dell  Brown  had  scratched  them. 
So  Dell  Brown  just  threw  Miss  Murphy's  hair 
switch  on  a  desk,  and  stood  there  with  her  chest 
swelling  in  and  out  under  her  red  and  black  checked 
dress,  and  Miss  Murphy  backed  away  and  began 
winding  her  switch  on  her  head  again. 

When  Miss  Murphy  got  her  hair  on,  she  went  out 
108 


SCRATCH-CAT 

and  locked  the  door  and  got  Professor  Martin,  the 
principal,  who  is  her  beau.  He  came  in,  and  he  was 
pretty  mad.  He  grabbed  Dell  Brown  and  gave  her 
a  shake,  and  she  flew  at  him  like  a  cat  and  scratched 
him  across  the  face.  He  slung  her  around,  and  she 
hit  a  desk  and  fell  on  the  floor.  It  made  her  cry,  and 
Professor  Martin  was  scared  of  what  he  had  done 
and  went  to  pick  her  up.  But  when  he  stooped  she 
clawed  at  him  and  scratched  his  other  cheek,  and  he 
left  her  alone  and  told  her  to  get  up  and  go  home, 
because  she  was  expelled  from  school. 

So  Dell  Brown  got  up,  and  held  her  hand  to  her 
side,  and  went  and  got  her  books  and  went  home. 
But  there  was  only  one  rib  broke,  and  I  guess  it 
healed  all  right,  because  she  was  young  and  tough. 
But  nobody  whipped  any  more  girls  in  school.  I 
guess  they  thought  it  was  safer  to  whip  boys.  They 
are  more  used  to  it,  and  their  ribs  ain't  so  brittle. 
Or  maybe  the  school  board  stopped  it.  Professor 
Martin  almost  got  fired  because  he  had  broken  a 
rib  for  Scratch-Cat  and  he  would  of  been  fired  only 
Scratch-Cat  was  such  a  ruffian,  everybody  said. 

Well,  of  course  the  expelling  did  n't  take,  and  Dell 
Brown  came  back  after  while,  when  Miss  Murphy 
went  away  and  Miss  Carter  came.  She  did  n't  fight 
much,  because  her  rib  was  brittle  yet,  but  she  was 
cross  all  the  time.  It  looked  like  she  hated  every- 
body and  everybody  hated  her. 

But  one  day  Miss  Carter  was  walking  down  the 
aisle  and  she  had  some  flowers  pinned  on,  and  one 
109 


SWATTY 

dropped  in  the  aisle,  and  Dell  Brown  picked  it  up 
and  put  it  in  a  book.  She  used  to  open  the  book  and 
look  at  the  flower.  She  used  to  sit  and  look  at  Miss 
Carter,  and  you  could  n't  tell  whether  she  was  mad 
at  her  or  not,  because  her  face  was  so  dark  and  her 
bangs  so  long  that  she  always  looked  scowly.  But  I 
guess  she  was  n't  mad,  I  guess  she  wanted  Miss 
Carter  to  like  her,  but  did  n't  know  how  to  make 
her. 

None  of  the  girls  played  with  Scratch-Cat  because 
she  scratched ;  and  none  of  the  boys  played  with  her 
either,  because  they  were  afraid  of  her.  As  soon  as 
school  was  out  she  would  go  home  and  play  in  her 
own  yard.  I  guess  she  was  pretty  lonely. 

Well,  that  was  how  it  was  up  to  the  time  I'm 
telling  about,  just  before  school  closed,  in  June,  and 
the  weather  was  bully  and  warm.  It  made  you  want 
to  do  things.  So  on  Saturday  me  and  Swatty  and 
Bony  was  sitting  in  my  barn  and  talking  about  what 
we  would  do  that  afternoon.  We  thought  of  a  lot  of 
things,  and  said  them,  but,  every  time,  Swatty  said: 
"Aw!  no,  let's  don't!"  So  we  didn't.  So  then  I 
said: 

"I'll  tell  you  what!" 

"What?"  Swatty  asked. 

"Pshaw,  no!"  I  said.  "It  ain't  no  use.  We  could 
n't  get  any.  It  ain't  time  for  them  yet." 

"Aw !  what  are  you  talking  about?  "  Swatty  asked. 
"What  ain't  it  time  for?" 

"Water-lilies,"  I  said.  "If  it  was  time  for  water- 
no 


SCRATCH-CAT 

lilies  we  could  row  up  to  the  water-lily  pond  and  get 
some  water-lilies." 

So  then  Swatty  he  talked  up. 

''Well,  we  could  row  up  the  river  anyway,  could 
n't  we?"  he  said  —  only  he  said  "rowr"  instead  of 
"row,"  like  he  always  does.  "We  could  rowr  up  the 
river  and  get  some  pond-lily  roots  and  sell  them." 

"Aw!  who  would  buy  old  pond-lily  roots?"  Bony 
wanted  to  know. 

Well,  I  thought  at  first  that  the  reason  Swatty 
said  we  could  sell  pond-lily  roots  was  because  once 
I  had  told  him  about  a  man  or  somebody  who  had 
made  money  getting  pond-lily  roots  and  selling  them 
to  people  who  wanted  to  raise  pond-lilies  in  a  tub 
in  their  gardens.  But  that  was  n't  why  he  said  it. 

"Why,  garsh!  plenty  of  people  would  want  to 
buy  them,"  Swatty  said.  "I  guess  I  ought  to  know. 
I  guess  I've  got  an  uncle  in  Derlingport,  ain't  I?  I 
guess  he  ought  to  know  about  pond-lily  roots, 
ought  n't  he?" 

It  looked  like  that  ought  to  be  so,  because  Derling- 
port is  three  times  as  big  as  Riverbank,  and  Swatty's 
uncle  was  older  than  any  of  us.  But  Bony  said: 

"Aw!  what  does  your  old  uncle  know  about  pond- 
lily  roots,  anyway?" 

(  "I  guess  he  knows  plenty  about  them,"  Swatty 
said.  ' '  I  guess  if  you  went  up  to  Derlingport  to  visit 
him  you'd  see  whether  he  knows  anything  about 
them  or  not!  I  bet  my  uncle  is  the  richest  man  in 
Derlingport,  and  the  reason  he  is  is  because  once, 
in 


SWATTY 

when  I  was  out  pond-lilying,  I  sent  him  a  pond-lily 
root  and  he  grew  it  in  a  tub,  and  when  folks  saw  it 
they  wanted  to  grow  some  too.  So  my  uncle  he 
rowred  up  the  river  to  a  pond-lily  pond,  and  he  got 
some  roots  and  sold  them.  First  orff  he  only  got  a 
few  and  sold  them ;  but  pretty  soon  he  had  a  hundred 
men  getting  pond-lily  roots  for  him,  and  he  had  to 
build  a  pond-lily  root  elevator,  like  the  grain  elevator 
down  on  the  levee,  but  ten  times  bigger." 

"Gee-my-nentily!"  Bony  said.  "Ten  times  big- 
ger! Gee!" 

"Ho!  that  ain't  nothing!"  Swatty  said.  "That 
was  when  he  was  just  beginning  to  start  out.  He's 
got  ten  of  them  elevators  now,  and  —  he 's  got  al- 
most ten  trillion-billion  pond-lily  roots  in  them.  He's 
got  a  railway  switch  and  a  steamboat  dock  to  each 
elevator,  and  when  he  ships  pond-lily  roots  he  ships 
them  by  the  trainload.  Only,  when  he  sells  them  in 
Dubuque  or  Keorkuk,  he  ships  them  by  the  boat- 
load." 

" Gee-my-nentily ! "  said  Bony  again.  "Come  on! 
Let's—" 

"Well,  I  guess  so!"  said  Swatty.  "I  guess  it's  no 
wonder  he 's  the  richest  man  in  Derlingport !  And  I 
can  just  go  and  visit  him  any  time  I  want  to.  I  can 
go  visit  him  and  take  a  bath  right  in  his  china  bath- 
tub." 

"Aw!  go  on!"  I  said.  "He  ain't  got  a  china  bath- 
tub!" 

"Yes,  sir!  just  like  a  tea-cup." 

112 


SCRATCH-CAT 

"Gosh!"  Bony  said.  "Did  you  take  a  bath  in  it?'* 

"Garsh,  no!"  said  Swatty.  "Do  you  think  I'd  go 
taking  bath-tub  baths  when  I  did  n't  have  to?  When 
I  visit  him  my  uncle  lets  me  do  just  what  I  want  to. 
I  don't  have  to  wash  my  feet,  or  take  a  bath,  or  go 
for  a  cow,  or  fetch  in  wood  — " 

"Who  fetches  in  the  wood?"  Bony  asked. 

"Nobody,"  Swatty  said.  "My  uncle  don't  burn 
sawmill  slabs  or  cord  wood.  He  burns  coal." 

"Well,  somebody  has  to  fetch  in  the  coal,  don't 
he?"  I  wanted  to  know. 

"Well,  I  guess  not!"  said  Swatty.  "He  —  he  has 
a  —  a  bridge  built  right  over  the  top  of  his  house, 
so  he  can  run  a  railroad  over  it,  and  he  has  a  big 
iron  box  on  top  of  his  house  under  the  bridge,  and 
the  railroad  hawrls  the  cars  of  coal  right  up  on  top 
of  the  roof  and  dumps  the  coal  into  the  iron  box, 
and  it  runs  down  the  chimbleys  right  into  the  stove." 

Well,  me  and  Bony  did  n't  say  nothing.  We  just 
sat  there  and  thought  what  we  thought. 

"And  he's  got  a  road  scooped  out  under  his  house 
for  a  railroad  to  run  on,"  Swatty  said,  "and  there  is 
a  train  of  cars  under  the  house,  and  when  my  uncle, 
or  anybody,  shakes  the  grate  the  ashes  fall  right 
down  an  iron  pipe  into  the  cars." 

"Come  on!"  I  said.  "Come  on!  Let's  go  some- 
where." 

So  Swatty  looked  at  me ;  but  I  had  n't  said  he 
was  a  liar  or  anything,  so  there  was  nothing  to  fight 
about.  If  I  had  wanted  to  I  could  have  said  I  had  an 


SWATTY 

uncle  somewhere  that  did  n't  bother  with  dirty  old 
coal  and  ashes  at  all,  but  had  his  own  natural  gas 
well  and  used  natural  gas;  but  my  nose  was  sore 
yet  from  the  last  time  Swatty  had  pushed  it  into  my 
face,  so  I  did  n't  say  it. 

We  went  down  to  the  boat-house  and  hired  a  skiff 
and  rowed  up  the  river  to  the  pond-lily  pond.  The 
river  was  pretty  low  and  it  was  muddy  on  the  bank 
of  the  river  —  over  knee-deep  in  mud.  Swatty  got 
out  over  the  bow  of  the  skiff  to  pull  it  up  on  the 
mud,  so  the  wash  from  any  steamboat  would  n't 
send  it  adrift,  and  he  went  in  over  the  knees  of  his 
pants,  so  we  thought  we  had  better  undress  in  the 
skiff,  and  we  did.  It  felt  bully  to  be  undressed  out- 
doors again. 

I  guess  you  know  how  the  lily-pond  is.  On  one 
side  is  the  railroad  and  on  the  other  side  is  the  river; 
but  between  the  pond  and  the  river  is  narrow  sand, 
with  willows  on  it  —  bush  willows.  It  makes  a  bank 
all  around  the  lower  end  of  the  pond-lily  pond  and 
ends  at  the  railroad.  So  me  and  Bony  and  Swatty 
talked  it  over,  and  thought  we'd  better  not  leave 
our  clothes  in  the  skiff,  because  somebody  might 
steal  them.  First  we  thought  we  'd  hide  them  in  the 
willows,  and  then  we  thought  we'd  carry  them 
around  by  the  sand  spit  to  the  railroad,  because  the 
pond-lily  roots  were  over  by  the  railroad  more.  So 
we  did.  We  walked  around  to  the  railroad  and  left 
our  clothes  there,  and  waded  in.  Swatty  went  first. 

It  was  pretty  tough.  You  went  into  the  mud 
114 


SCRATCH-CAT 

pretty  deep,  and  there  were  plants  that  had  scratch- 
els  on  them,  and  the  lily  plants  and  the  arrow-leaf 
plants  were  so  thick  you  could  hardly  wade.  They 
were  all  around  the  shore  for  two  or  three  rods,  and 
you  could  n't  see  over  them.  They  rustled  like  corn 
when  we  pushed  through  them.  But  we  knew  there 
was  a  big  clear  place  in  the  middle  of  the  pond,  so 
we  waded  on  out  to  it.  It  was  the  place  where  I 
learned  to  swim.  It  was  n't  over  head  anywhere. 

Well,  Swatty  came  to  the  open  place  first,  and  he 
stopped  and  said: 

"There's  somebody  out  there." 

Me  and  Bony  peeked,  and  there  was.  Right  off 
we  saw  who  it  was  —  it  was  Scratch-Cat.  She  was 
in  where  the  water  was  under-arm  deep,  and  she  was 
sort  of  crying,  she  was  so  mad.  Then  we  saw  what 
she  was  trying  to  do  —  she  was  trying  to  learn  her- 
self to  swim.  It  was  enough  to  make  anybody  laugh. 

It  looked  like  she  had  been  at  it  a  long  time,  for 
she  was  so  cold  she  was  shivering.  We  were  near 
enough  to  her  to  see  that  the  black  spot  on  her  arm 
was  a  mole  and  not  a  leaf  or  a  vaccination,  and  we 
could  see  her  shiver  as  plain  as  could  be.  The  way 
she  was  learning  herself  to  swim  was  this:  she  put 
her  hands  out  in  front  of  her  and  sort  of  jumped  off 
her  feet  and  then  kicked  and  pounded  the  water 
and  went  down  under.  I  guess  you  know  how  that 
feels.  You  can't  get  your  head  above  water  when 
you  are  that  deep  unless  you  stand  up ;  so  you  paw 
in  the  mud,  and  get  scared  because  you  can't  get  to 


SWATTY 

your  feet.  Dell  Brown  would  come  up  scared  to 
death,  and  spit  and  blow,  and  sort  of  cry,  and  shiver, 
and  then  she  would  do  it  all  again. 

I  guess  it  was  pretty  tough.  Every  time  she  went 
down  she  must  have  got  scratched  up  by  the  weeds 
with  scratchels  on  them  —  some  kind  of  smartweed 
—  and  she  was  scared  and  chilly.  It  was  mighty 
funny.  I  guess  I  laughed  out  aloud. 

Anyway,  all  at  once  she  saw  Swatty  and  us.  She 
ducked  like  a  shot,  until  only  her  head  was  out  of 
water,  and  me  and  Bony  laughed.  But  Swatty 
did  n't.  He  pushed  me  and  Bony  back  and  said : 

"Hey!  Scratch-Cat!  Wait;  I'll  show  you  how  to 
swim."  Only,  he  said,  "I  '11  showr  you  how  to  swim," 
the  way  he  always  says  "show." 

So  he  slid  his  hands  out  on  the  water  and  turned 
on  his  side  and  swam  towards  where  she  was.  He 
did  n't  mean  nothing.  All  he  meant  was  to  show  her 
how  to  swim,  because  she  would  never  learn  the 
way  she  was  trying.  But  Scratch-Cat  turned  and  held 
her  arms  straight  out  in  front  of  her  and  hurried  for 
the  shore,  pushing  the  weeds  away  with  her  hands. 

Swatty  kept  telling  her  to  wait,  and  once  he  came 
up  to  her,  and  she  turned  and  hammered  him  with 
her  fists,  crazy  mad,  and  he  let  her  go  on.  The  weeds 
must  have  scratched  her  pretty  bad,  ripping  through 
them  that  way;  but  she  got  to  the  railway  track  and 
began  putting  her  clothes  on  fast.  So  Swatty  said: 

"Garsh!  I  bet  she  gets  our  clothes  and  hides  them 
or  something!" 

116 


SCRATCH-CAT 

So  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  hurried  to  where  our 
clothes  were  and  dressed.  We  got  most  of  our  duds 
on  and  were  putting  on  the  rest,  when  we  heard 
somebody  yelling.  It  was  a  woman,  and  she  was  over 
on  the  river  road,  across  a  cornfield  from  where  we 
were,  and  she  was  yelling  like  she  was  being  mur- 
dered. I  was  mighty  scared.  All  I  thought  of  was  that 
whoever  was  murdering  her  would  murder  her  and 
then  come  over  and  murder  us. 

I  guess  Bony  thought  the  same  thing,  for  he  got 
white  and  started  to  run  down  the  railway  bank 
toward  our  skiff.  So  I  started  after  him.  But  Swatty 
he  started  to  run  the  other  way,  down  the  bank  to 
the  cornfield,  towards  where  the  woman  was  scream- 
ing. He  rolled  under  the  bob-wire  fence  and  started 
down  between  the  corn  rows  as  hard  as  he  could  go. 
Me  and  Bony  stopped  and  looked,  and  then  we  went 
after  him,  only  slower.  When  we  got  deep  into  the 
corn  we  got  more  scared.  We  did  n't  like  to  be  so  far 
from  where  Swatty  was,  with  a  woman  screaming 
like  that  and  being  murdered.  So  I  hurried  up,  and 
Bony  came  along,  blubbering.  I  told  him  to  shut  up. 

We  came  to  the  edge  of  the  cornfield  and  stopped. 
It  was  Miss  Carter,  our  teacher,  and  a  tramp  had 
her  by  the  throat,  trying  to  make  her  stop  her  yell- 
ing. And  just  then  Swatty  jumped  on  the  tramp. 
He  had  a  rock,  and  he  lammed  at  the  tramp  with  it 
and  hit  him  on  the  arm.  So  then  Miss  Carter  went 
limp  and  stopped  yelling,  and  fell  in  a  pile  on  the 
road,  because  the  tramp  let  go  of  her  and  she  fainted. 

"7 


SWATTY 

The  road  was  all  tramped  up  and  covered  with 
walked-on  flowers  Miss  Carter  had  been  getting; 
but  the  tramp  reached  around  and  grabbed  Swatty 
and  got  him  by  the  neck  and  began  to  pound  his 
head.  Me  and  Bony  crouched  down  and  looked  be- 
tween the  boards  of  the  cornfield  fence,  because  we 
was  too  scared  to  run  away. 

Swatty  done  the  best  he  could,  but  it  was  n't 
much  use.  He  was  getting  killed,  I  guess.  But  all  at 
once  Scratch-Cat  came  a-sailing  out  of  the  cornfield 
and  lit  on  the  tramp  with  both  hands. 

When  her  eight  claws  came  raking  down  his  face 
he  let  loose  of  Swatty  and  grabbed  for  Scratch-Cat ; 
but  she  was  n't  where  he  grabbed.  She  was  stand- 
ing away,  with  her  hands  clawed  and  her  head  sort 
of  pointed  at  him,  ready  to  jump  again.  So  Swatty 
picked  up  the  rock  and  slung  it,  and  caught  him  in 
the  back  of  the  neck.  He  hollered  like  a  bull  and 
turned,  and  Scratch-Cat  went  at  him  and  raked  him 
on  the  side  of  his  face.  He  lammed  at  her,  and  I  guess 
he  caught  her  on  her  brittle  rib,  because  she  hollered. 

She  did  n't  care  what  happened,  I  guess,  when  he 
hit  her  brittle  rib,  so  she  went  right  at  him,  and 
Swatty  made  a  dive  for  his  legs  and  got  a  hold  on 
them.  The  tramp  fought  good  and  hard.  He  went 
down,  but  he  kept  on  fighting;  and  Swatty  hollered 
for  me  to  get  a  rock  and  whack  the  tramp  on  the 
head  with  it.  Maybe  I  would  have.  I  don't  know. 
Just  then  a  top  buggy  came  around  the  bend  of  the 
road,  and  the  tramp  showed  all  he  was  worth  and 
118 


SCRATCH-CAT 

beat  off  Swattyand  Scratch-Cat  and  cut  into  the 
woods.  We  heard  him  cracking  the  brush  as  he 
scooted,  and  that  was  all  we  knew  about  him. 

Well,  the  man  in  the  top  buggy  was  Herb 
Schwartz.  So  he  got  out  and  picked  up  Miss  Carter 
and  fetched  her  to,  and  Swatty  told  him  what  had 
happened.  So  Herb  went  to  where  Scratch-Cat  was 
sitting  on  the  side  of  the  road,  with  her  hand  where 
her  brittle  rib  had  busted.  So  Swatty  went  over 
there  too. 

"Garsh!  I'd  of  been  killed  if  you  had  n't  come!" 
he  said.  But  she  stood  up  and  looked  at  him. 

"What'd  you  come  swimming  at  me  when  I  was 
naked  for?"  she  said,  and  she  was  as  mad  as  hops. 
I  guess  her  rib  hurt  her  and  made  her  sort  of  crazy 
mad,  and  Swatty  was  the  first  one  that  came  near 
her,  so  she  picked  on  him.  "Why'd  you  dare?"  she 
screeched  at  him.  "I'll  show  you  not  to!"  —  or 
something  like  that. 

So  she  went  for  him.  She  did  n't  scratch,  either; 
she  used  her  fists.  She  fought  like  crazy,  and  got  her 
leg  back  of  his,  and  threw  him  and  piled  on  top  of 
him.  He  had  to  fight  as  hard  as  he  knew  how  to,  and 
it  was  all  right,  because  she  was  n't  a  girl  —  she  was 
something  crazy  mad.  It  was  a  quick  fight  and  a 
good  one,  and  then  Herb  Schwartz  grabbed  Scratch- 
Catby  the  shoulder  and  pulled  her  off  Swatty;  but 
that  did  n't  matter,  because  the  fight  was  over  any- 
how. Swatty  had  said:  "Enough!  I  won't  do  it 
again!" 

119 


SWATTY 

Well,  as  soon  as  Herb  had  stood  Scratch-Cat  up, 
she  turned  white  and  fell  down.  She  had  fainted.  It 
was  a  good  deal  of  a  mess-up.  Miss  Carter  had 
got  hysterical,  and  was  laughing  and  crying  so  she 
could  n't  put  her  hair  up  where  it  had  fell  down,  and 
Scratch-Cat  was  stretched  out  fainted,  and  I  guess 
Herb  Schwartz  was  never  so  busy  in  his  life  before. 
He  sent  me  and  Bony  and  Swatty  over  to  the  pond- 
lily  pond  for  a  hatful  of  water,  and  while  we  were 
gone  he  hugged  Miss  Carter  until  she  was  n't  hys- 
terical, because  I  guess  that  was  what  she  needed  to 
cure  her,  and  then  he  soused  Scratch-Cat  with  the 
water  and  she  came  around  all  right.  So  he  took 
Miss  Carter  and  Scratch-Cat  back  to  town  in  the 
top  buggy,  and  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  went  back 
to  our  skiff  and  rowed  home. 

Swatty  was  pretty  quiet.  I  guess  he  thought  Herb 
and  Miss  Carter  would  tell  all  over  town  how  he  had 
been  licked  by  a  girl ;  but  he  told  me  and  Bony  he 
would  kill  us  if  we  told  it,  so  we  did  n't.  But  neither 
did  Herb  or  Miss  Carter.  The  reason  was  that 
Scratch-Cat  told  them  not  to  tell  she  had  been  fight- 
ing. Herb  told  Swatty  that  Scratch-Cat  had  asked 
them  not  to. 

After  a  while  Scratch-Cat's  brittle  rib  healed  up 
again  and  she  did  n't  have  to  stay  in  bed,  and  I  was 
going  down-town  on  an  errand  past  her  house,  and  I 
saw  Swatty  in  her  yard.  They  were  playing  mum- 
bledy-peg.  So  after  that  she  played  with  me  and 
Bony  and  Swatty,  and  pretty  soon  with  Mamie 
120 


SCRATCH-CAT 

Little  and  my  sister  and  the  other  girls,  and  she 
was  almost  the  one  they  liked  best. 

So  one  day  Swatty  said  to  me: 

"Don't  you  ever  darst  yell  at  me  that  Scratch- 
Cat  is  my  girl!" 

"Aw!  I  never  yelled  it!"  I  said. 

."You  better  not!"  he  said.  "Because  she  ain't." 

So  then  I  knew  she  was. 


VI 

THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

WELL,  for  about  a  day  I  guess  Bony  thought  he  was 
about  the  smartest  kid  that  ever  lived.  Anyhow,  he 
acted  that  way  and  the  reason  was  that  his  house 
had  been  burglared  and  mine  and  Swatty's  houses 
had  n't  been.  But  that  was  n't  our  fault. 

Swatty  did  n't  say  much  because  he  thought 
maybe  the  burglar  would  come  around  and  burglar 
his  house  and  then  he  would  be  as  good  as  Bony. 
But  the  burglar  did  n't  go  to  any  more  houses,  and 
me  and  Swatty  got  pretty  sick  and  tired  of  hearing 
Bony  bragging  about  the  burglar  climbing  right  in 
at  his  window  and  almost  falling  over  his  bed,  and 
about  how  —  if  he  had  wakened  up  —  he  would 
have  gone  into  his  father's  room  and  got  his  father's 
shotgun  and  shot  the  burglar. 

We  got  pretty  sick  of  hearing  about  the  reward 
Bony's  father  had  offered,  and  about  how  the 
policemen  came  to  the  house  and  looked  at  Bony's 
bedroom  window  and  everything  and  wrote  it  all 
down. 

"Garsh!"  Swatty  said;  "it  ain't  nothing  to  brag 
about  to  be  burglared!  The  way  you  talk  you'd 
think  nobody  in  the  world  could  be  burglared  but 
you.  If  I  wanted  to  I  could  write  to  my  uncle  in 
Derlingport  and  he  'd  send  down  a  burglar  to  burglar 

122 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

my  house  in  a  minute.  And  he'd  burglar  Georgie's 
house,  too.  And  my  uncle  would  send  down  a  real 
burglar,  too." 

That  was  a  good  one  on  Bony,  because  the  news- 
paper said  the  policemen  said  the  burglar  that  bur- 
glared  Bony's  house  was  n't  a  real  burglar  but  only 
"local  talent." 

"Well  —  well — "  Bony  said, "well,  if  your  uncle 
can  send  down  so  many  real  burglars,  why  don't  he 
do  it,  and  not  leave  you  sitting  there  talking  about 
what  he  can  do  all  the  time?  " 

"Aw!  if  you  say  much  more  about  your  old  bur- 
glar I  will  write  to  my  uncle  to  send  some  down," 
Swatty  said. 

"Aw!  and  if  you  did  he  wouldn't  get  nothing! 
What'd  he  get  at  your  house?  I  bet  he  would  n't  get 
any  cardinal's  signet  ring." 

Well,  I  guess  that  made  Swatty  pretty  mad.  I 
guess  we  had  heard  about  all  we  wanted  to  hear 
about  that  old  signet  ring,  so  Swatty  started  to  go 
away,  and  he  said  to  me: 

"Come  on!  he  thinks  there  ain't  nothing  in  the 
world  but  that  old  signet  ring.  I  bet  it  was  brass, 
anyway." 

But  the  cardinal's  signet  ring  was  n't  brass,  be- 
cause it  said  in  the  newspaper  it  was  gold. 

I  guess  I  knew  plenty  about  that  signet  ring  be- 
fore the  burglar  ever  got  it,  because  once  Bony  told  us 
about  it  when  we  were  at  his  house  and  he  would  have 
showed  it  to  us,  only  his  mother  would  not  let  him. 
123 


SWATTY 

It  had  been  in  the  family  from  generation  unto 
generation.  So  when  Bony's  mother  would  not  let 
us  see  it  because  her  hands  were  in  the  dough  and 
boys  are  too  careless,  Bony  told  us  what  it  was  like 
and  said  he  guessed  it  was  worth  a  million  dollars, 
or  maybe  a  hundred,  anyway,  because  it  was  solid 
gold  and  had  a  red,  carved  stone  in  it,  and  the  car- 
dinal had  given  it  to  his  son,  and  he  had  given  it  to 
his  son,  and  it  had  always  been  in  the  family.  So 
I  said: 

"Aw!  't  ain't  so!  Because  cardinals  could  n't  give 
anything  to  their  sons;  they  don't  have  any  sons  to 
give  anything  to." 

"Well,  this  cardinal  gave  this  ring  to  his  son,  so 
he  did/'  Bony  said.  "This  cardinal  had  a  son." 

"No,  he  did  n't!"  I  said.  "I  guess  I  know  about 
cardinals.  They  don't  have  any  sons.  They  can't 
have  sons.  That's  the  law." 

Well,  Bony  did  n't  know  what  to  say,  because  he 
knew  I  was  right,  because  I  read  a  lot  of  books  and 
he  don't.  So,  if  it  had  n't  been  for  Swatty  I  don't 
know  what  we  would  have  done  about  it.  I  guess  me 
and  Bony  would  have  been  mad  at  each  other  for- 
ever, or  had  a  fight  or  something,  but  Swatty  had 
just  been  listening  and  spoke  up. 

"Aw!"  he  said;  "that  ain't  nothing  to  fight 
about.  The  cardinal's  signet  ring  could  be  an  heir- 
loom from  generation  to  generation  and  the  cardinal 
need  n't  have  any  son  either.  He  could  give  it  to  his 
grandson,  could  n't  he?" 

124 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

"Of  course  he  could!"  Bony  said.  "That's  what 
he  did." 

"Sure  he  did!"  said  Swatty.  "That's  how  all 
cardinals  do.  When  they  want  to  start  an  heirloom 
going  they  look  around  for  a  son  to  give  it  to,  and 
when  they  have  n't  any  sons  they  give  the  heirloom 
to  their  grandsons." 

Well,  the  burglary  was  about  Monday  of  the 
last  week  of  school,  and  about  Tuesday  we  were 
sick  and  tired  of  it  —  me  and  Swatty  was  —  but 
we  did  n't  know  how  to  shut  Bony  up,  because 
we  could  n't  have  burglars  come  to  our  houses 
just  because  we  wished  they  would.  So  Tuesday 
after  school  when  I  went  home  my  sister  Fan  was 
out  in  the  side  yard,  where  the  vines  grow  on 
the  porch,  and  she  was  down  on  her  hands  and 
knees. 

Fan  had  been  looking  pretty  sick  for  a  good  while 
and  it  was  because  Herb  had  gone  back  on  her,  or 
her  on  him.  I  felt  mighty  sorry  for  her,  even  if  she 
was  my  sister,  and  mother  said  she  was  worried  and 
that  the  only  thing  to  cheer  Fan  up  would  be  to  send 
her  somewhere,  far  from  the  scene.  So  Fan  had  said 
she  would  go. 

So  there  she  was  on  her  knees  in  the  grass  and 
when  she  saw  me  she  said,  "Georgie!" 

"What?"  I  said. 

"Georgie,"  she  said,  "I  lost  a  ring  here  —  one 
with  just  one  diamond  in  it  — " 

"  I  know.  The  ring  Herb  gave  you." 
125 


SWATTY 

"Yes.  If  you  find  it  for  me,  George,"  she  said, 
"  I  '11  give  you  —  I  '11  give  you  ten  dollars." 

Well,  I  tried  to  divide  three  into  ten,  and  you 
can't  do  it,  so  I  said : 

"Maybe  I  can  find  it  for  fifteen  dollars, "because 
that  would  be  five  dollars  apiece  for  me  and  Swatty 
and  Bony. 

Fan  looked  at  me,  and  then  said,  "Very  well, 
find  it  if  you  can,  please."  » 

And  that  wasn't  like  Fan,  because  what  she 
would  mostly  say,  would  be,  "You  little  imp,  you 
know  where  that  ring  is!  You  get  it  this  instant  or 
father  will  attend  to  you." 

So  I  knew  she  was  pretty  sick  about  Herb. 

Well,  as  soon  as  Fan  said  that  I  skipped  out  the 
back  way,  over  to  Swatty's,  and  asked  him  for  the 
ring,  because  we  had  had  it  in  pardnership,  and  I  had 
let  him  have  it  awhile.  I  told  him  what  I  wanted  it 
for  and  he  said : 

"I  ain't  got  it.  I  thought  you  or  Bony  had  it;  I 
gave  it  to  Bony." 

So  we  went  over  to  Bony's  house,  and  the  minute 
we  said  "ring"  he  was  scared  stiff. 

"It  was  stole,"  he  said.  "The  burglar  stole  it  out 
of  my  pants  pocket,  but  I  did  n't  say  nothing  be- 
cause I  guessed  the  police  would  get  it  back  again." 

So  that  was  a  nice  one,  was  n't  it?  So  me  and 

Swatty  were  mad  at  Bony  and  we  would  n't  talk  to 

him  or  let  him  play  with  us  unless  we  got  the  ring 

back,  and  none  of  the  policemen  caught  Bony's  bur- 

126 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

glar.  Bony's  father  printed  a  reward  of  fifty  dollars 
in  the  newspaper,  but  my  father  said  that  whoever 
caught  the  burglar  would  n't  be  half  as  lucky  if  he 
caught  him  as  he  would  if  he  ever  got  fifty  dollars 
out  of  Bony's  father,  because  my  father  would  be 
blessed  if  he  believed  Bony's  father  had  ever  seen 
fifty  dollars  at  one  time.  So  maybe  the  policemen 
knew  that.  Anyway,  they  did  not  catch  the  burglar. 
I  guess  folks  thought  he  would  never  be  caught,  and 
he  never  would  have  been  if  it  had  n't  been  for  me 
and  Swatty  and  Mamie  Little.  I  guess  he  would 
never  have  been  caught  if  Mamie  Little  had  known 
how  to  spell  "sulphur." 

The  burglar  got  plenty  of  other  things  from 
Bony's  house,  too,  but  the  signet  ring  is  the  thing 
I  'm  telling  about  because  it  was  the  signet  ring  that 
helped  Swatty  to  catch  the  burglar.  That  and  Mamie 
Little,  only  Mamie  Little  did  n't  know  she  helped 
until  I  told  her,  and  then  she  did  n't  understand  any 
better  than  she  did  about  the  sulphur  bag.  I  guess 
nobody  will  know  unless  I  tell  it.  So  I  '11  tell  it. 

Thursday  afternoon  I  went  past  Mamie  Little's 
yard  about  five  o'clock  and  she  was  trying  to  fix  up 
a  couple  of  old  boxes  to  make  a  playhouse  and  I 
leaned  on  the  fence  and  was  glad  I  was  there,  be- 
cause nobody  else  was  there  to  see  me.  So  I  said : 

"Aw!  that's  no  way  to  make  a  playhouse  out  of 
boxes!" 

"Oh,  dear!"  she  said.  "  I  know  it  ain't.  I  want  this 
one  on  top  of  the  other  one  but  I  can't  lift  it." 
127 


SWATTY 

"I  bet  I  could  lift  it!"  I  said. 

11 1  know  you  could,"  she  said.  "Boys  are  stronger 
than  girls." 

" If  you  don't  tell  anybody,"  I  said,  "I'll  come  in 
and  lift  it  for  you." 

So  I  went  in  and  lifted  it,  and  she  was  glad.  She 
said  it  made  a  dandy  upstairs  for  her  playhouse,  and 
she  said  boys  were  fine,  because  they  were  so  strong. 
So  I  felt  pretty  good.  So  she  took  a  hammer  and  be- 
gan to  nail  some  nails,  to  make  shelves  and  things, 
and  I  told  her  girls  did  n't  know  how  to  nail,  and  she 
said  she  knew  they  did  n't. 

So  I  took  the  hammer,  and  just  then  I  saw  Swatty 
coming.  So  I  threw  down  the  hammer  mighty  quick 
and  said: 

"  I  got  to  go  now.  My  mother  wants  me,  but  if  you 
want  me  to  I  '11  come  over  Saturday  and  we'll  fix  up 
the  playhouse  nice." 

So  she  did  want  me  to,  and  I  said  I  'd  come  and  I 
felt  gladder  than  I  had  ever  felt  before,  and  I  dodged 
behind  the  lilac  bushes  and  got  out  of  her  yard  the 
back  way,  and  Swatty  did  not  see  me.  So  that  was 
all  right. 

Well,  I  guess  there  was  diphtheria  or  scarlet  fever 
or  something  in  town  then  and,  anyway,  my  mother 
and  lots  of  the  kids'  mothers  made  us  wear  sulphur 
bags.  That  was  so  we  would  n't  catch  it,  whatever  it 
was.  They  were  little  bags  about  as  big  as  a  watch, 
and  there  was  sulphur  in  them  and  aseophidity,  or 
asophedeta,  or  asofiditty,  or  whatever  you  spell  it. 
128 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

It  smells  pretty  rank  but  it  keeps  away  whatever 
you  might  catch. 

Well,  going  to  school  Swatty  met  me  and  he 
said: 

"Say,  let's  go  fishing  down  the  Slough,  to- 
morrow." 

"I  can't,  Swatty,"  I  said,  because  I  wanted  to  do 
what  I  had  said  I  would  do  for  Mamie  Little,  only  I 
did  n't  want  to  tell  Swatty  that,  so  I  said:  " I've  got 
to  stay  home  and  work." 

" Pshaw!"  Swatty  said,  only  he  said  it  "  Pshawr!" 
like  he  always  does.  "If  you  can't  go  I  won't  go, 
either!  If  you  can't  go  I 'm  going  to  stay  home  and 
split  the  wood  I  ought  to  split." 

"Well,  I  can't  go,"  I  said.  So  we  went  into  the 
schoolhouse  and  into  our  room.  Mamie  Little  was 
there.  She  had  just  hung  up  her  hat  and  she  was 
standing  by  her  desk,  nearly  across  the  room,  and 
she  looked  fine,  her  cheeks  were  so  red  and  her  eyes 
were  kind  of  sparkly.  There  were  only  one  or  two 
there  besides  us. 

So,  while  she  was  standing  by  her  desk  she  sort  of 
picked  at  her  dress  on  her  chest  a  couple  of  times 
the  way  I  had  been  picking  at  my  shirt  front,  and 
I  was  glad  to  think  she  had  a  sulphur  bag,  too,  like 
I  had.  It  was  nice  to  think  we  both  had  the  same, 
only  she  did  n't  know  I  had  one. 

So  I  whistled  a  little  whistle  —  "Wheet!"  —  and 
she  looked  at  me.  I  guess  she  smiled  at  me.  I  felt 
mighty  brave.  So  I  started  with  the  deaf-and-dumb 
129 


SWATTY 

alphabet,  pointing  at  my  eye  for  "I,"  and  rubbing 
my  hands  across  each  other  for  "h"  and  I  spelled 
out  "I  have  a"  and  she  nodded  her  head  at  each 
word  to  show  she  knew  what  I  was  spelling.  So  I 
spelled  out  "sulphur,"  because  what  I  wanted  to  tell 
her  was  "  I  have  a  sulphur  bag,  too,"  but  when  I  got 
to  "sulph"  she  shook  her  head  and  I  had  to  begin 
again,  because  she  could  n't  understand. 

I  was  standing  up  and  she  was  standing  up  and  she 
was  standing  so  she  looked  right  at  me,  and  I  spelled 
and  spelled.  Sometimes  I  began  at  the  beginning  and 
spelled  "  I  have  sulph "  and  sometimes  I  spelled  "sul- 
phur" over  and  over,  but  she  just  shook  her  head 
each  time  and  smiled  and  waited.  She  was  awfully 
interested,  and  more  and  more  scholars  came  in,  and 
pretty  soon  they  were  all  watching  me  and  trying  to 
spell  what  I  was  spelling,  but  nobody  did,  I  guess. 
Mamie  Little  got  awfully  interested  and  she  was 
mighty  eager  to  find  out  what  I  was  trying  to  spell. 
Then,  all  at  once,  I  knew  why  she  could  n't  tell ;  it 
was  because  she  did  n't  have  any  sulphur  bag  on. 
So,  all  at  once,  I  felt  mighty  cheap !  There  she  was, 
thinking  I  had  something  awfully  important  I  was 
trying  to  tell  her,  and  she  did  n't  have  a  sulphur  bag, 
and  I  was  making  a  fool  of  her  before  the  whole 
school,  because  what  would  she  think  of  me  telling 
her  I  had  a  sulphur  bag  if  she  did  n't  have  one?  And 
making  such  a  fuss  about  it,  as  if  it  was  something 
wonderful  like  telling  her  her  father  was  dead,  or 
something. 

130 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

Then,  all  of  sudden,  I  remembered  I  was  going  to 
her  yard  the  next  day,  to  help  her  with  her  play- 
house, and  I  felt  worse  than  ever.  The  first  thing  she 
would  want  to  know  would  be  what  I  had  tried  to 
spell  out,  and  if  I  told  her  she  would  think  I  was 
crazy  to  make  so  much  fuss  about  such  a  thing,  and 
if  I  did  not  tell  her  she  would  be  mad  at  me  forever 
and  maybe  talk  about  me  to  the  other  girls.  I 
could  n't  bear  to  think  about  it  and  I  could  n't  help 
thinking  about  it.  So,  after  school,  I  hurried  away  as 
fast  as  I  could,  and  when  Swatty  caught  up  with  me 
I  told  him  I  had  changed  my  mind  and  that  I  would 
go  fishing  with  him.  So  that  is  how  Mamie  Little 
helped  catch  Bony's  burglar.  If  it  had  n't  been  for 
Mamie  Little  not  knowing  how  to  spell  "sulphur"  I 
would  n't  have  gone  fishing,  and  Swatty  would  n't 
have  gone  either,  and  the  burglar  would  n't  have 
been  caught. 

So  Saturday  morning  I  got  in  enough  wood  for  all 
day  and  it  was  n't  much,  because  it  was  summer  and 
the  kitchen  wood  was  all  I  had  to  get  in.  Then  I 
hunted  up  a  new  tin  can,  because  when  we  get 
through  fishing  we  always  throw  the  old  one  into 
the  Slough,  because  by  that  time  the  worms  that 
are  left  are  pretty?  bad.  Sometimes,  if  the  can  has 
been  in  the  sun,  they  are  even  worse  than  that. 
So  I  got  a  new  can  and  went  around  to  the  other 
side  of  the  barn  and  the  spade  was  there  yet,  from 
the  last  time  I  had  dug  worms,  so  I  dug  some 
more. 


SWATTY 

T  Just  then  Swatty  came  into  the  yard  and  he  was 
ready  to  start.  So  my  mother^came  to  the  back  door 
with  some  sandwiches  and  things  in  a  box,  and  I 
said: 

1 '  Aw !  I  don't  want  to  carry  a  big  box  like  that !  Aw ! 
I  just  want  a  couple  of  sandwiches  in  my  pocket!" 

"Georgia!"  she  said.  "You  take  this  box!  You'll 
be  glad  enough  of  everything  that's  in  it!" 

Me  and  Swatty  went  up  over  the  hill  and  down 
past  the  Catlic  church  to  South  Riverbank  and  we 
stopped  at  the  pump  on  the  corner  and  had  a  good 
drink  and  cooled  off  our  feet  in  the  mud  under  the 
pump  spout,  because  the  sidewalks  were  hot. 

The  water  in  the  Slough  was  n't  high  and  it  was  n't 
low.  Once  the  Slough  ran  through  to  the  river  at  this 
end  but  now  it  was  all  filled  in  with  sawdust  from 
the  sawmill,  and  a  big  conveyor  blowpipe  kept  blow- 
ing more  sawdust  into  the  Slough  from  the  mill,  and 
all  the  surface  of  the  Slough  was  floating  sawdust. 
Then,  a  little  further  along,  it  was  water-lily  leaves. 
Then,  further  along,  it  was  plain  Slough  for  miles 
and  miles  and  miles. 

The  water  was  three  or  four  feet  down  from  the 
top  of  the  bank  and  the  bank  was  covered  with 
pretty  good  grass,  and  all  along  the  Slough  there 
was  a  path  worn,  because  kids  and  fellows  had  fished 
in  the  Slough  ever  since  there  was  a  Riverbank,  and 
before  that  the  Indians  had  fished  in  it,  I  guess. 
Everywhere,  close  to  the  edge  of  the  bank  in  the 
shade  of  the  trees,  there  were  places  worn  smooth  — 

132 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

like  an  old  chair  seat  —  where  fellows  had  sat  and 
fished  for  years  and  years  until  they  were  regular 
fishing  places.  When  you  saw  one  of  them  you  knew 
it  was  a  good  fishing  place  and  that  there  was  a 
bent  root,  all  worn  smooth  and  sometimes  almost 
worn  in  two,  part  way  down  the  bank,  to  rest  your 
feet  on. 

It  was  all  quiet  and  still,  like  a  fishing  place  should 
be,  except  for  the  "urr-urr  "  of  the  mills  away  off,  or 
the  "caw  caw!"  of  crows  or,  once  in  a  while,  some- 
body knocking  the  ashes  out  of  a  pipe  against  a  root, 
across  the  Slough  or  a  little  splash  when  somebody 
caught  a  fish.  Then  everything  would  be  quiet 
again. 

So  me  and  Swatty  walked  along  down  the  path, 
because  we  thought  we  would  go  as  far  as  we  had 
ever  been,  or  farther,  this  time.  Once  we  stopped  and 
ate  'most  all  of  my  lunch.  It  was  nine  o'clock  but  we 
were  mighty  hungry.  Then  we  went  on. 

We  got  two  or  three  miles  down  the  Slough  and 
most  of  the  fishing  places  were  empty  there  and  I 
wanted  to  stop  but  Swatty  said:  "Aw!  come  on! 
Let's  go  on  down  to  the  point!"  so  we  went. 

The  point  was  n't  much  of  a  point  but  you  felt 
more  out  in  the  Slough  when  you  were  on  it.  There 
was  a  big  water  maple  at  the  end  of  it,  with  fine 
roots  to  sit  on,  and  I  sat  on  some  of  the  roots  and 
fished  and  Swatty  sat  on  some  others  and  fished.  It 
was  good  and  hot  and  the  Slough  smelled  warm  and 
weedy  and  we  liked  it,  because  that  was  part  of  the 
133 


SWATTY 

regular  fishing  smell.  There  was  just  a  little  ripple 
and  the  corks  bobbed  up  and  down  gently  and  we 
set  our  poles  among  the  roots  and  just  leaned  back 
and  felt  good.  Over  across  the  Slough  was  another 
point,  but  more  rounded  and  bigger,  and  it  was  green 
and  cool  looking,  with  grass  and  three  big  elms  on  it, 
and  back  in  the  fields  a  cow's  bell  jingled  once  in 
a  while,  and  the  crows  cawed,  and  the  sawmill 
hummed  away  off  in  the  distance,  and  it  got  hotter 
and  hotter.  I  watched  my  cork  until  it  seemed  to 
lose  itself  in  the  ripples  and  my  eyes  got  sleepier  and 
sleepier  and,  the  next  thing  I  knew,  I  woke  up  and 
Swatty  was  n't  there!  Neither  was  my  cork! 

The  first  thing  I  did  was  give  my  pole  a  yank  and 
out  came  a  jim-dandy  goggle-eye  sunfish,  just  about 
as  good  as  I  ever  caught.  I  held  him  so  the  stickers 
would  n't  sting  me  and  got  the  hook  out  of  him  and 
strung  him  on  a  piece  of  twine  and  I  was  tying  the 
string  to  a  root  so  the  goggle-eye  would  be  in  the 
water  when  somebody  down  the  Slough  a  ways 
hawked,  clearing  the  tobacco  out  of  his  throat,  and 
I  looked  around  and  saw  Swatty  coming  back  to  the 
point,  not  making  any  noise.  He  held  up  a  finger  for 
me  to  be  quiet  and  then  he  climbed  out  onto  the 
roots  of  the  maple  and  sat  down. 

"I  caught  a  dandy  goggle-eye,  Swatty,"  I 
whispered. 

He  leaned  over  toward  me. 

"Don't  make  any  noise!"  he  whispered.  "Bony  is 
over  on  that  point." 

134 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

I  looked  and  I  saw  him.  It  was  pretty  far  across 
the  Slough  and  Bony  could  n't  hear  us  if  we  whis- 
pered. 

"Well,  he  can't  hear  us,  can  he?"  I  whispered 
back. 

"No,"  Swatty  said  and  then  he  climbed  over  be- 
side me  and  sat  on  a  root.  "There's  a  man  down 
there,"  he  said  and  he  pointed. 

"I  heard  him  spit."  I  whispered.  I  began  to  feel 
scary  because  there  was  n't  any  use  for  Swatty  to  be 
so  whispery  unless  there  was  something  to  feel  scary 
at,  was  there? 

"He's  got  Bony's  father's  signet  ring,"  Swatty 
whispered.  "Anyway,  I  guess  he's  got  it.  He's  got 
a  ring  like  what  Bony  says  his  father's  ring  is 
like.  He's  fishing  and  he's  got  the  ring  on  his 
thumb." 

Well,  then  I  knew  what  Swatty  had  done.  While 
I  was  asleep  he  had  sneaked  down  to  see  what  luck 
the  man  was  having  and  he  had  seen  the  ring. 

"Gee!"  I  said. 

Swatty  sat  awhile  with  his  forehead  wrinkled  and 
looked  at  the  Slough  and  he  was  thinking. 

"Garsh!"  he  said;  "I'd  like  to  be  the  one  to  get 
that  fifty  dollars.  I  wish  I  knew  for  certain  it  is 
Bony's  father's  ring.  Fifty  dollars  is  a  lot  of  money. 
If  I  had  it  I'd  put  it  in  the  bank." 

"What  bank?"  I  asked  him.  "The  Savings  Bank 
or  the  Riverbank  National?  " 

"  I  guess  maybe  I  'd  put  half  hi  one  and  half  in  the 

135 


SWATTY 

other,"  Swatty  said.  "Then  if  one  bank  busted  I'd 
have  half  left,  anyway." 

"Well,  if  one  did  bust  maybe  you'd  get  some  of 
your  money  back,"  I  said.  "My  father  had  money 
in  a  bank  once  and  it  busted  and  he  got  part  of  it 
back." 

"That's  so,"  Swatty  said.  "If  I  put  in  twenty- 
five  and  the  bank  busted  maybe  I  'd  get  back  fifteen 
of  it.  That  would  be  forty  dollars  I'd  have,  even 
if  the  bank  did  bust.  I  'd  like  to  have  it." 

So  we  sat  there  awhile  and  the  crows  cawed  and 
the  cowbell  jingled  and  it  was  quiet,  but  we  did  n't 
catch  any  more  fish. 

"  If  we  had  n't  got  mad  at  Bony  he  would  be  over 
here,"  Swatty  said  after  a  while. 

"Well,  what  if  he  was?"  I  said. 

"Well,  he  could  sneak  up  and  see  if  that  ring  is  his 
father's  ring,  could  n't  he?"  said  Swatty. 

"Well,  then,"  I  said,  "why  don't  you  call  to  him 
to  come  over?" 

As  soon  as  I  said  it  I  knew  it  was  n't  much  to  say, 
because  it  was  two  or  three  miles  back  to  the  end  of 
the  Slough  and  four  or  six  miles  Bony  would  have  to 
go  to  get  around  to  us,  and  he  would  n't  come  any- 
way because  he'd  think  maybe  we  wanted  to  lick 
him  or  something.  And  if  we  shouted  what  we 
wanted  him  for,  the  burglar  would  hear  us  and  would 
get  away  from  there  mighty  quick. 

"I'm  going  over  and  get  Bony." 

"How  are  you  going  to  get  him?"  I  asked. 
136 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

"  I  'm  going  to  row  over,"  he  said.  "You  stay  here 
and  watch  that  man  and  I  '11  go  over  and  get  Bony." 

Well,  I  guessed  that  if  he  said  he  would,  he'd  find 
some  way  to  row  over  whether  there  was  a  boat  or 
not,  because  that  was  the  way  Swatty  was.  When 
he  wanted  to  do  anything  he  did  it.  So  I  looked 
down  the  Slough  and  I  could  see  the  end  of  the  man's 
fishpole  sticking  out  over  the  water  and  his  cork 
floating  and  Swatty  climbed  onto  the  bank  and  took 
his  fishpole  and  went  up  the  Slough.  He  had  to  go 
pretty  far  before  he  found  a  boat  and  the  boat  he 
found  was  not  much  good.  It  was  an  old  flat  boat  and 
one  end  was  busted  some  and  it  was  water-logged. 
Swatty  had  to  stay  away  up  in  one  end  to  keep  the 
busted  end  out  of  water  and  he  paddled  the  best  he 
could  with  a  piece  of  fence  board.  He  paddled  out 
to  the  middle  of  the  Slough  and  stopped  there  and 
pretended  to  fish  a  while  and  then  he  paddled  a  little 
nearer  Bony  and  pretended  to  fish  a  while  longer, 
and  then  he  paddled  to  shore  near  where  Bony  was 
and  got  out  of  the  flatboat  and  went  up  to  Bony.  For 
a  while  they  sat  together  and  I  guessed  Swatty  was 
talking  to  Bony  about  the  ring  and  the  fifty  dollars 
and  the  man,  and  coaxing  Bony  to  come  to  our  side 
of  the  Slough  and  see  if  it  was  his  father's  ring  the 
man  had  on  his  thumb. 

So  all  the  time  I  kept  looking  three  ways  —  at 
Bony  and  Swatty,  and  at  my  cork,  and  at  the  end 
of  the  man's  fishpole  —  and  all  at  once  when  I 
looked  the  man's  fishpole  was  n't  there.  It  was  gone! 

137 


SWATTY 

So  I  looked  harder,  but  it  was  gone,  no  matter  how 
hard  I  looked.  So  then  I  knew  Swatty  would  give  me 
a  whale  of  a  licking  if  he  came  back  and  found  out  1 
had  let  the  man  get  away  while  he  was  fetching 
Bony,  and  I  climbed  off  the  root  and  up  the  bank 
and  I  was  just  starting  to  run,  to  go  where  the  man 
had  been,  when  I  saw  him.  He  was  right  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  path  near  where  he  had  been  fishing  and 
he  was  bent  down  with  his  back  toward  me,  picking 
up  fish,  because  the  string  he  had  had  them  strung 
on  had  broken.  He  was  stringing  them  again  and  as 
he  picked  them  up  I  could  see  the  ring  on  his  thumb. 

Pretty  soon  he  had  all  his  fish  strung  again  and 
then  he  straightened  up  and  took  a  chew  of  tobacco 
and  looked  up  into  a  tree  that  was  right  there,  and  I 
looked  up  and  saw  he  had  put  his  fishpole  up  the 
tree,  so  I  guessed  maybe  he  fished  there  pretty 
often,  or  was  coming  back  sometime.  So  then  he 
slouched  off.  I  watched  him. 

He  was  big  but  he  was  n't  very  old.  Maybe  he 
was  twenty  or  thirty.  His  clothes  were  pretty  old 
and  faded  and  he  looked  lazy  in  the  arms  and  legs 
and  when  he  walked  he  walked  tired.  He  went  down 
the  path  a  ways  and  then  he  climbed  over  the  fence 
there  was  along  there  and  I  went  across  the  path 
and  watched  him  from  behind  another  tree.  It  was  a 
ploughed  field  there  and  he  walked  in  a  furrow  clear 
across  the  field  to  the  road  that  was  on  the  other 
side  and  climbed  over  another  fence.  So  I  climbed 
up  on  my  fence  and  watched  to  see  where  he  would 

138 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

go.  There  were  three  little  houses  across  the  road 
and  he  went  into  the  one  on  the  end  toward  town. 
So  then  I  guessed  that  was  where  he  lived  and  I  got 
down  off  my  fence  and  went  back  to  the  point. 

Swatty  and  Bony  were  in  the  boat  and  Swatty 
was  paddling  it  as  well  as  he  could  but  it  was  only 
halfway  across.  Then,  all  at  once,  Swatty  began  to 
paddle  harder.  He  paddled  as  hard  as  he  could  and 
then,  I  guess,  he  said  something  to  Bony  and  Bony 
began  to  bail  out  the  boat  as  fast  as  he  could.  Then 
Bony  began  to  cry.  I  could  hear  him  where  I  was  and 
Swatty  shouted  at  him  and  looked  over  his  shoulder 
to  see  how  far  he  had  to  paddle.  Then  Swatty 
dropped  his  paddle  stick  and  began  to  bail  with  his 
hat  like  he  was  crazy.  And  before  I  could  see  it,  al- 
most, the  old,  rotten  flatboat  took  a  dive  and  Swatty 
and  Bony  were  in  the  water.  Bony  yelled  and  went 
under  but  Swatty  came  right  up,  spitting  water  and 
kicking  out  with  his  hands.  It  was  a  good  thing  he 
was  barefoot. 

Well,  Swatty  looked  all  around  as  soon  as  he  got 
the  water  out  of  his  eyes  but  he  could  n't  see  Bony. 
So  he  dived  for  him. 

There 's  one  place  nobody  ever  swims  and  that  is 
the  Slough.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  look  down  into 
it  anywhere  and  you  know  why.  All  you  see  when 
you  look  down  is  seaweed  —  tons  and  oceans  of  it 
—  all  tangled  and  twisty,  and  old  trees  and  branches 
sticking  around  in  it  to  get  caught  onto.  When  the 
Slough  is  low  you  can't  row  on  it  because  the  sea- 

139 


SWATTY 

weed  grabs  your  oars  and  holds  on  like  it  was  some 
mean  man  trying  to  drown  your  boat.  It  scares  you. 
And  all  in  among  the  seaweed  are  tough  weeds  and 
water-lily  stems  and  water  vines.  There  have  been 
plenty  of  boys  drowned  in  the  Slough,  I  guess.  So 
Bony  had  got  caught  in  the  weeds  and  vines  and 
things. 

Pretty  soon  Swatty  came  to  the  top  but  he  did  n't 
have  Bony,  but  his  arms  were  covered  with  seaweed. 
He  spit  out  water  and  scraped  the  seaweed  off  his 
arms  and  then  he  took  his  nose  in  his  hand  and  dived 
again.  That  time  he  got  him.  He  got  him  by  one  leg 
and  he  swam  for  shore  dragging  Bony  behind  him 
and  the  seaweed  strung  out  behind  Bony.  His  head 
was  all  covered  with  it. 

I  was  crying  pretty  hard,  I  guess.  So  Swatty  told 
me  to  shut  up  and  he  turned  Bony  over  on  his  back 
and  began  scraping  the  seaweed  off  his  face,  and 
Bony's  face  was  scratched  a  good  deal  from  the 
rough  weeds  and  maybe  from  where  I  had  dragged 
him  up  the  bank  on  his  face.  I  thought  he  was  dead 
but  Swatty  did  n't.  He  leaned  down  and  listened  to 
Bony's  heart  and  said  all  he  needed  was  to  be 
pumped  out.  So  he  started  to  pump  him  out. 

Swatty  got  down  on  his  knees  a-straddle  of  Bony 
and  took  Bony's  hands  in  his  and  pumped  him  the 
way  he  had  heard  you  ought  to  pump  a  drowned 
person.  He  pushed  Bony's  arms  clear  back  until  they 
touched  the  ground  over  his  head  and  then  he  drew 
them  forward  until  they  touched  the  ground  again, 
140 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

and  he  kept  right  at  it.  Every  once  in  awhile  Swatty 
would  shake  his  head  to  shake  the  water  out  of  his 
ears  but  he  went  right  on  pumping.  So  I  stood  and 
blubbered. 

Well,  no  water  pumped  out  of  Bony.  Swatty 
pumped  and  pumped  but  no  water  came  out  of 
Bony's  mouth  and  pretty  soon  Swatty  stopped  and 
took  a  couple  of  deep  breaths. 

''Garsh!"  he  said;  "I  thought  he  would  pump 
easier  than  that!" 

So  he  pumped  him  again  a  few  times  and  then 
stopped  again.  It  looked  as  if  it  was  n't  any  use. 

"I  know  what's  the  matter,"  Swatty  said. 
"We've  got  to  prime  him.  There  ain't  enough  water 
in  him  to  start  unless  he 's  primed.  When  our  cistern 
is  low  at  home  we  have  to  prime  it  before  the  water 
starts  pumping  up,  and  that's  what  we've  got  to 
do." 

Well,  I  guessed  that  was  so.  Our  cistern  pump  was 
that  way  too.  So  I  took  my  bait  can  and  washed  it 
out  good  and  clean  and  got  a  can  of  water  and  I 
primed  Bony.  I  poured  a  little  water  in  Bony's 
mouth  and  Swatty  pumped. 

"Prime  him  some  more,"  Swatty  said. 

So  I  primed  him  some  more.  It  did  n't  seem  to  do 
any  good. 

"Aw, prime  him  a  lot!"  Swatty  said,  so  I  poured 
all  the  water  I  had  in  the  can  into  Bony's  mouth 
and  went  and  got  some  more. 

"Keep  on!"  Swatty  said.  "He'll  start  pretty 
141 


SWATTY 

4 

soon.  We've  got  to  get  the  water"  pumped  out  of 
him." 

So  I  was  priming  Bony  again  when  somebody 
behind  us  said: 

"What  are  you  trying  to  do  to  that  boy?" 

I  looked  around,  and  Swatty  looked  around.  It 
was  the  man  with  the  ring  on  his  thumb. 

"He's  drowned,"  Swatty  said,  "and  we're  trying 
to  pump  him  out." 

The  man  took  ahold  of  Swatty's  shoulder  and 
threw  him  almost  into  the  fence.  He  stooped  down 
and  grabbed  Bony  and  threw  him  across  a  big  maple 
root,  face  down,  and  began  to  pump  and  pretty 
soon  Bony  began  to  pump  out.  The  man  pumped 
him  pretty  dry  and  then  he  put  him  in  the  sun  and 
began  to  rub  him  good  and  after  a  while  Bony  opened 
his  eyes.  To  see  him  open  his  eyes  was  one  of  the 
best  things  I  ever  saw.  I  was  mighty  glad  I  had 
helped  to  undrown  him. 

Bony  was  pretty  much  wilted.  Me  and  Swatty 
did  n't  know  how  we  would  ever  get  him  home  but 
we  did  n't  have  to. 

"About  one  more  can  of  water  in  this  kid  and  he 
would  have  been  gone  for  good,"  the  man  said. 
"Now,  you  help  him  onto  my  back  and  I  '11  get  him 
home  for  you." 

We  got  Bony  onto  his  back  and  Bony  hung  around 

his  neck  and  the  man  held  Bony's  legs  under  his  arms. 

He  climbed  the  fence  with  him  that  way  and  started 

off  across  the  ploughed  field  and  me  and  Swatty 

142 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

went  after  him.  We  did  n't  even  think  about  taking 
our  fishpoles  along.  We  went  across  the  field  and  the 
man  stopped  at  his  house  and  called  his  mother  and 
she  gave  Bony  some  whiskey  in  hot  water  while  the 
man  went  over  to  a  farmer's  house  and  got  a  team 
and  a  wagon.  So,  while  he  was  gone  Swatty  said  to 
Bony: 

"Is  it?" 

He  meant  the  cardinal's  signet  ring,  and  was 
it  it. 

"Yes,  it's  it,"  Bony  said,  but  not  very  loud.  He 
was  pretty  much  drowned  yet. 

So  we  all  went  back  to  town  in  the  farmer's 
wagon ;  me  and  Bony  and  Swatty  and  the  man  and 
the  farmer  kid  that  was  driving.  So  Swatty  sat  with 
the  farmer  kid  and  talked  to  him. 

"That  man  saved  Bony's  life,"  Swatty  said. 
"Who  is  he?" 

"Him?  He's  Lazy  Joe,"  the  farmer  kid  said. 
"He's  Lazy  Joe  Mulligan.  He  don't  do  nothing  but 
fish  and  loaf." 

So  then  Swatty  knew  who  the  burglar  was. 

We  drove  up  to  town  and  Swatty  told  the  farmer 
kid  where  to  drive  and  pretty  soon  we  came  to 
Bony's  house.  The  man,  Lazy  Joe  Mulligan,  looked 
pretty  funny,  you  bet,  when  we  drove  right  up  to 
the  house  he  had  burglared.  He  put  his  hand  in  his 
pocket  and  when  he  pulled  it  out  the  ring  was  gone. 

"Come  on!"  Swatty  said  to  me. 

"Where  to?  "I  asked  him. 


'  SWATTY 

"Down  to  Bony's  father's  to  get  that  fifty  dol- 
lars," Swatty  said.  So  we  went. 

Well,  I  guess  we  forgot  to  tell  Bony's  father  about 
Bony  being  drowned  and  pumped  out.  We  just  told 
him  we  had  the  burglar  up  at  his  house  and  that  we 
wanted  the  fifty  dollars,  and  he  rushed  out  and  up 
the  street  and  got  a  policeman  and  hurried  to  his 
house.  Lazy  Joe  was  there  yet,  telling  Bony's  mother 
how  he  had  pumped  Bony  out,  but  the  farmer  kid 
was  n't  there,  because  Bony's  mother  had  sent  him 
down  to  get  Bony's  father.  She  wanted  Bony's 
father  to  give  Lazy  Joe  five  dollars  or  something 
for  pumping  Bony  out. 

Then  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony's  father  and  the 
policeman  came  in  and  Bony's  father  was  saying: 
"Officer,  arrest  him!  He's  the  man  that  stole  my 
property,"  while  Bony's  mother  was  saying:  "Ed- 
ward, give  him  five  dollars  or  something!  He's  the 
man  that  saved  your  son's  life." 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Bony's  father,  and  he  was 
pretty  much  mixed;  "I  thought  this  was  the 
burglar." 

"He  is  the  burglar,"  said  Swatty.  "He's  got  the 
cardinal's  ring  in  his  pocket  right  now.  I  seen  it, 
and  Georgie  seen  it,  and  Bony  seen  it." 

Then  Lazy  Joe  did  n't  know  what  to  say.  Then 
he  said: 

"  I  '11  give  everything  back." 

So  that  was  how  they  fixed  it.  Bony's  father  saved 
fifty-five  dollars.  He  saved  the  five  dollars  he  ought 
144 


THE  CARDINAL'S  SIGNET  RING 

to  have  given  Lazy  Joe  for  saving  Bony's  life  and 
he  saved  the  fifty  dollars  he  ought  to  have  given 
Swatty.  So  all  me  and  Swatty  knew  next  was  that 
we  were  out  on  the  street  and  we  did  n't  have  any- 
thing to  show  for  catching  the  burglar.  All  we  had 
was  what  Bony's  father  said.  What  he  said  was: 

"Get out  of  here,  you  little  rats!  Be  thankful  you 
have  n't  my  child's  death  on  your  shoulders!" 

Well,  I  was  going,  but  Swatty  stood  right  there. 

"No,  sir!"  he  said.  "I  won't  go.  You  can  cheat 
us  out  of  fifty  dollars  reward,  maybe,  but  you've 
got  to  give  back  the  diamond  ring  this  burglar  has 
that  belongs  to  Herb  and  Fan.  You  got  to  give  that 
back,  because  it  ain't  yours." 

"Have  you  got  a  ring  like  that?"  the  policeman 
asked  Lazy  Joe. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  and  he  took  it  out  of  one  of  his 
pockets.  So  Swatty  took  it  and  we  skipped  out.  We 
went  right  over  to  my  house,  because  it  was  dark 
by  now,  and  I  went  to  Fan  and  told  her  we  had  her 
ring  for  her.  I  did  n't  know  what  I  would  say  when 
she  asked  me  where  I  got  it,  but  she  did  n't  ask. 
She  just  went  to  her  drawer  and  got  out  fifteen 
dollars  and  gave  it  to  me  and  did  n't  say  anything. 
Only  when  I  went  out  of  the  room  I  heard  her  bed 
creak  sudden,  and  I  knew  she  had  sort  of  thrown 
herself  down  on  it,  broken-hearted,  like  in  a  novel. 


VII 
THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

WELL,  it  looked  like  that  vacation  would  be  a  sort 
of  nice  one  —  at  the  beginning  of  it,  anyway  — 
because  Fan  had  taken  mother's  advice  and  gone 
over  to  Chicago  to  visit  Aunt  Beatrice,  and  Mamie 
Little  had  gone  down  to  Betzville  to  be  on  her  uncle's 
farm  awhile,  because  it  would  do  her  good. 

When  Fan  went  she  went  in  a  closed  carriage  as 
far  as  the  depot,  because  she  was  so  pale  and  peaked 
she  did  n't  want  anybody  to  see  her  and  have  Herb 
hear  of  it.  She  sent  him  his  ring  back,  I  guess,  before 
she  went. 

I  thought  it  was  pretty  mean  that  Fan  had  to  be 
mostly  sick  like  that,  while  Herb  was  as  well  as  ever 
and  having  a  good  time  with  Miss  Carter,  as  far 
as  I  knew,  but  it  was  n't  any  of  my  business.  Mother 
said  she  guessed  Fan  would  get  over  it,  because  she 
was  young  yet  and,  goodness  knew!  there  wasn't 
so  much  difference  between  one  man  and  another, 
but  that  if  people  like  Bony's  mother  did  n't  stop 
coming  over  and  talking  about  it  she  would  go  mad. 
And  I  guess  that  was  so  because  Bony's  mother  is 
some  talker.  I  Ve  heard  her  talk. 

I  heard  her  talk  about  Fan  one  day,  and  it  made 
me  sick.  And  then  she  talked  about  Bony,  and  it 
made  me  sicker. 

146 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

I  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  our  porch  waiting  for 
Swatty  and  Bony.  I  was  tying  a  piece  of  salt  pork 
on  the  bottom  of  my  foot  to  keep  from  getting  the 
lockjaw,  because  I  had  stepped  on  a  rusty  nail,  and 
I  thought  maybe  I  had  better  scrape  some  of  the 
sand  out  of  the  nail  hole  before  I  put  the  pork  on, 
so  it  would  heal  quicker,  and  I  was  scraping  it  out 
with  my  barlow  knife.  That 's  how  I  happened  to  be 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  porch ;  but  Bony's  mother 
and  my  mother  were  at  the  other  end  of  the  porch. 

So  then  Bony's  mother  said : 

14  No,  I  have  never  used  a  switch  on  my  son.  I  have 
never  struck  him  with  my  hand,  nor  has  his  father. 
We  don't  believe  in  it.  We  use  moral  suasion." 

That  means  they  jaw  Bony.  They  corner  him  up 
somewhere  and  jaw  him  until  he  blubbers,  the  way 
the  teachers  jaw  the  girls  when  they  get  too  big  to 
paddle,  and  then  Bony's  mother  blubbers  and  makes 
Bony  kiss  her  and  say  that  now  he  will  be  a  better 
and  truer  boy  and  keep  the  Ten  Commandments  and 
not  smoke  corn  silk  any  more.  Or  whatever  it  is. 

So  my  mother  did  n't  say  anything  because  when 
she  thinks  I  need  it  she  wales  me  good.  Anyway,  I  'd 
rather  be  waled  ten  times  a  day  than  be  moral- 
suasioned  like  Bony,  and  so  would  Swatty,  and  so 
would  all  the  kids,  and  so  would  Bony.  But  my 
mother  did  n't  say  anything  because  Bony's  mother 
was  a  caller  and  you  don't  fight  with  callers  until 
after  they've  got  you  so  perfectly  exasperated  you 
just  have  to  speak  your  mind. 
147 


SWATTY 

So  Bony's  mother  said: 

"Yes,  indeed!"  and  she  said  it  the  way  women 
say  things  when  they're  being  stylish.  "Yes,  indeed! 
the  rod  implants  fear  in  the  child,  and  we  should 
rule  by  love.  My  child  shall  never  know  fear.  The 
normal  child  never  knows  fear." 

Well,  that's  when  I  almost  laughed  out  loud.  Such 
a  smarty,  sitting  there  and  letting  on  she  knew  any- 
thing about  boys !  Say,  I  guess  she  never  was  a  boy ! 
"Normal  boys  never  know  fear!"  She  must  have 
thought  she  was  in  heaven,  talking  about  kid  angels 
and  not  about  boys! 

Boys  are  always  afraid  of  something.  Even  Swatty 
used  to  be  afraid  of  that  old  witch,  Mrs.  Groogs. 
We  other  boys  used  to  go  across  the  street  from 
where  she  lived  and  holler: 

"Old  Mother  Groogsy,  oh! 
Lost  her  needle  and  could  n't  sew! 
Old  Mother  Groogsy,  oh ! 
Lost  her  nee-dul  and  could-dent  sew! 
Old  Mu-uth-er  Gur-roog-sy,  oh! 
Lu-ost  her  nee-eedul  and  ku-uld-dent  sew!" 

And  then  we'd  throw  clods  at  her  shanty  until  she 
came  out  with  a  stick  or  broom  —  mostly  it  was  the 
cane  she  used  to  walk  with  —  and  then  we'd  all 
throw  clods  at  her  at  once  and  run.  It  made  her 
pretty  mad.  But  Swatty  made  her  maddest.  He 
knew  a  German  rhyme  he  could  say  pretty  fast, 
and  he  'd  say  it  and  she  would  get  so  mad  she  would 
shake  all  over. 

148 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

Well,  one  day  when  we  were  all  sort  of  teasing  her 
like  that,  and  Swatty  was  with  us,  she  came  out  with 
a  sword.  It  was  a  horse  soldier's  sword,  a  saber,  and 
it  was  so  big  she  could  hardly  lift  it,  but  she  could 
with  both  hands,  and  she  came  right  at  us  across 
the  street,  swinging  it  around  her  head.  If  it  had  hit 
us  it  would  have  killed  us,  but  we  ran.  So  after  that 
whenever  she  came  out  she  would  have  the  sword, 
but  we  were  n't  afraid  of  her  when  we  were  together. 
It  was  when  one  of  us  alone  had  to  go  anywhere 
near  her  shanty.  We  would  n't  do  it.  We  'd  go  'round. 

Well,  she  was  one  of  the  things  we  were  afraid  of, 
but  the  new  street  got  her  away  from  there.  The 
new  street  went  right  through  where  her  shanty 
was,  so  they  tore  the  shanty  down,  and  after  that 
we  were  n't  afraid  of  her  any  more,  because  she 
was  gone. 

So  this  day  —  it  was  Saturday  —  I  was  sitting 
on  the  porch  fixing  my  foot  when  Swatty  came  over, 
like  he  said  he  would.  Bony  was  with  him,  but  he 
waited  in  the  alley  because  he  knew  his  mother  was 
at  my  house.  I  got  around  the  corner  of  the  house 
without  my  mother  seeing  I  was  limping  much,  so 
she  did  n't  call  me  back,  and  when  we  got  to  the 
alley  Bony  was  there  all  right,  with  a  shovel  he  had 
borrowed  out  of  their  coal  bin  while  his  mother 
was  n't  home.  It  was  to  go  ahead  and  make  another 
room  in  our  cave  with.  I  could  walk  pretty  good, 
but  I  had  to  walk  on  the  toe  end  of  one  of  my  feet 
to  keep  the  heel  off  the  ground  because  the  nail  hole 
149 


SWATTY 

was  in  the  palm  of  my  foot.  We  got  to  our  cave  all 
right. 

Our  cave  was  a  good  one,  it  was  the  best  one  I 
ever  saw  anybody  make.  It  was  in  the  clay  bank 
at  the  side  of  Squaw  Creek  up  where  there  are  no 
more  Irish  shanties  or  geese  and  where  the  creek 
bed  is  gravelly  instead  of  sandy.  We  found  the  place 
one  day  when  we  were  explorers,  exploring  the 
creek  to  its  headwaters,  only  we  stopped  when  we 
got  to  this  place  and  turned  pirates  and  began  dig- 
ging the  cave.  We  did  n't  do  much  that  day,  but 
the  next  chance  we  got  Swatty  had  us  go  up  and 
dig  again.  We  dug  a  little  every  time  we  went  up 
until  the  hole  was  big  enough  for  us  all  to  get  in,  and 
then  Swatty  said  we'd  keep  right  on  digging  until 
it  was  big  enough  to  live  in. 

That  was  what  we  thought  of  right  at  first,  but 
we  forgot  it.  We  had  had  enough  cave  digging,  I 
guess.  Swatty  said:  "Aw,  garsh!  come  on  and  make 
a  good  cave!"  but  we  did  n't  want  to.  We  wanted 
to  smoke  corn  silk  and  talk  and  be  comfortable. 
So  Swatty  went  outside  and  climbed  up  the  bank; 
but  pretty  soon  he  came  sliding  down  the  bank. 
He  made  the  silence  sign  and  motioned  us  to  come 
with  him.  He  looked  good  and  scared.  So  we  all 
climbed  up  the  bank  and  looked. 

The  grass  and  weeds  came  right  to  the  edge  of  the 

bank  and  from  the  edge  they  stretched  away  over  a 

big  field.  All  around  the  field  were  trees,  edging  it 

in,  but  that  was  n't  what  Swatty  wanted  us  to  see. 

150 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

Away  over  in  one  corner  of  the  field  the  Graveyard 
Gang  was  playing  One  Old  Cat. 

So  that  was  where  we  were.  The  old  Squaw  Creek 
had  turned  and  twisted  until  it  went  right  into  the 
part  of  the  edge  of  town  where  the  Graveyard  Gang 
kids  lived,  and  we  had  dug  our  cave  right  in  a  place 
where  we  had  never  dared  to  go.  Gee,  I  was  scared! 

We  were  always  scared  of  the  Graveyard  Gang. 
They  had  to  come  down  to  our  school,  and  there 
were  a  lot  of  them  and  mostly  bigger  than  we  were 
and  we  generally  fought  after  school,  but  it  was 
only  sometimes  that  they  could  catch  us  and  mailer 
us,  because  we  could  throw  clods  at  them  and  then 
skip  into  our  yards  where  we  lived,  and  they  could  n't 
come  after  us.  But  what  they  always  tried  to  do 
was  to  get  some  of  us  cornered  off  and  chase  us  out 
toward  the  cemetery  way.  If  they  got  us  out  there 
they  could  surround  us  and  mailer  the  life  out  of  us. 
And  they  would. 

So  me  and  Bony  saw  that  our  cave  was  a  pretty 
good  thing.  If  the  Graveyard  Gang  got  us  cornered 
off  and  we  had  to  run  out  their  way  they  would 
think  they  had  us,  but  we  would  just  run  and  slide 
down  to  our  cave  and  then  we  could  fight  them  until 
they  had  enough  or  we  had  killed  them  all.  So  every 
day  that  we  went  to  the  cave  we  took  up  stones, 
and  we  dug  and  dug.  It  was  a  dandy  cave.  It  was 
big  enough  to  stand  up  in,  and  we  made  a  stove  out 
of  old  iron  and  made  a  hole  up  through  the  ceiling 
for  the  smoke  to  go  out,  and  we  had  some  potatoes 


SWATTY 

and  things  so  we  could  stand  a  long  siege.  We 
worked  at  it  nearly  all  vacation.  Swatty  showed 
us  how  to  make  a  door,  and  we  made  it  and  we 
painted  the  outside  with  wet  clay  so  the  door 
would  look  like  the  side  of  the  bank  but  it  did  n't. 
It  did  some,  but  not  much. 

Well,  when  school  began  again  we  began  having 
clod  fights  with  the  Graveyard  Gang  again  and 
some  of  them  were  pretty  tough  fights.  Once, 
Swatty  said,  when  me  and  Bony  was  n't  with  him 
some  of  the  Graveyard  kids  cornered  him  off  and 
chased  him  all  the  way  out  to  their  part  of  town, 
but  he  dodged  and  went  behind  some  bushes  and 
got  to  the  cave  and  hid  there  until  night,  and  they 
never  found  him.  So  we  knew  the  cave  was  a  good 
thing  to  have.  So  this  day  I'm  telling  about  we 
went  right  up  the  creek  to  our  cave  and  the  minute 
we  got  there  Swatty  stopped  short. 

"Somebody  has  been  here!"  he  said. 

The  door  of  the  cave  was  busted  in  and  was  off 
one  of  its  hinges.  Our  stove  was  all  kicked  over  and 
the  table  we  had  made  was  busted  down  and  every- 
thing we  had  was  all  kicked  around.  We  guessed 
the  Graveyard  Gang  had  found  us  out,  so  Swatty 
and  me  and  Bony  went  to  work  and  fixed  up  the 
door  and  mended  the  stove.  We  did  n't  know  when 
they  would  come  back. 

They  came  back  quick  enough.  The  first  we 
heard  was  them  talking  at  the  top  of  the  bank,  and 
then  all  of  them  slid  down.  I  guess  they  wanted 
152 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

to  stop  when  they  got  to  the  cave  mouth,  but 
Swatty  was  in  the  door  of  the  cave  and  he  had  his 
pockets  full  of  our  throwing  stones,  and  he  leaned 
out  and  let  them  have  them.  They  yelled  and  slid 
right  on  down  to  the  creek. 

Bony  began  to  cry. 

Well,  there  were  about  twelve  of  the  Graveyard 
Gang  down  there  in  the  creek.  They  got  together 
and  talked  about  how  they  would  get  us  and  then 
they  began  throwing  stones.  I  tried  to  help  Swatty 
stone  them,  but  the  door  was  too  narrow,  and  he 
told  me  to  stay  inside  and  hand  him  stones  to  throw. 
He  threw  as  fast  as  he  could  and  sometimes  he  hit 
a  Graveyard  kid  and  sometimes  he  missed,  but  one 
kid  can't  hardly  throw  against  twelve,  and  pretty 
soon  a  stone  hit  Swatty  on  the  forehead  just  on  his 
eyebrow.  He  put  up  his  hand  to  feel  the  place  and 
another  hit  him  on  the  crazy  bone,  and  he  came 
inside  and  lay  down  on  the  floor  of  the  cave  and 
hugged  his  elbow  and  rocked  himself  and  groaned. 
I  guess  it  hurt  him  pretty  bad.  Bony  just  stood  and 
bellered:  "Oh,  I  want  to  go  home!  I  want  to  go 
home!" 

J  went  to  the  door  and  began  to  throw  stones, 
but  I  was  so  mad  I  could  n't  aim  straight.  Swatty 
sat  up  and  rocked  himself  and  hugged  his  elbow. 

"Shut  the  door!"  he  howled  at  me.  "Come  in 
and  shut  the  door!  Shut  the  door!" 

So  I  did.  I  was  n't  much  afraid  of  being  hit,  but 
I  knew  the  door  shut  right  away,  so  I  shut  it.  The 

153 


SWATTY 

minute  it  was  shut  the  stones  hit  against  it  like  hail. 
The  Graveyard  Gang  cheered,  but  it  did  n't  do  them 
any  good ;  the  little  throwing  stones  could  n't  break 
the  door  and  they  could  n't  throw  big  ones  up  that 
far. 

In  a  little  while  Swatty  was  just  rubbing  his 
elbow  and  he  got  up  and  helped  me  brace  the  door 
shut  with  the  shovel  and  things.  His  forehead  was 
swelled  up  like  an  egg,  but  he  did  n't  mind  that. 

"There!"  he  said.  "This  shows  it  was  a  good 
thing  we  have  a  cave,"  and  I  guessed  he  was  right. 
He  went  over  and  made  Bony  stop  blubbering.  He 
made  him  stop  by  telling  him  to  hurry  and  build 
a  fire  in  the  stove  because  maybe  we  might  have  to 
stay  there  a  week  or  even  longer,  and  we'd  have 
to  cook  potatoes  to  live  on  or  else  starve  to  death. 
So  Bony  forgot  to  cry  and  started  to  make  a  fire. 

Between  the  boards  of  our  door  we  could  see  out 
through  the  crack  and  we  could  see  that  the  Grave- 
yard Gang  did  n't  know  what  to  do  next  to  get  us. 
Once  in  a  while  they  threw  a  stone  or  two  but  that 
did  n't  hurt  us.  And  then  they  did  the  thing  that 
chased  us  out. 

I  guess  it  was  about  five  o'clock  by  then.  We 
thought  it  was  later  because  it  was  getting  dark, 
but  we  could  n't  see  that  there  was  a  big  storm 
coming  up.  It  was  coming  up  back  of  us  and  was 
hiding  the  sun.  All  at  once  there  was  thunder,  and 
then  the  stove  began  to  smoke  out  into  the  cave. 
Then  the  whole  cave  began  to  fill  with  smoke. 

154 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

I  coughed,  and  me  and  Bony  thought  the  wind  was 
blowing  the  smoke  down  the  chimney,  but  Swatty 
went  to  the  stove  and  kicked  the  top  off  and  began 
scattering  the  wood  and  coals  over  the  floor  to  put 
out  the  fire.  Some  of  the  Graveyard  Gang  had  put 
something  over  the  top  of  our  chimney  so  that  the 
smoke  would  come  into  the  cave  and  smoke  us  out. 

Well,  that  was  all  right.  We  kicked  the  fire  out 
and  that  ought  to  have  stopped  the  smoke  but  it 
did  n't.  The  smoke  came  in  worse  than  ever,  and 
then  Swatty  knew  what  was  the  matter.  The  Grave- 
yard Gang  was  filling  our  chimney  with  burning 
grass  or  straw  or  something  and  then  stopping  the 
top  of  the  chimney  so  the  smoke  would  come  down 
into  the  cave. 

The  smoke  got  so  thick  we  could  n't  see  and  we 
could  n't  breathe.  Swatty  looked  out  of  the  door 
cracks  and  there  were  eight  or  nine  of  the  Grave- 
yard Gang  down  there  in  the  creek  laying  for  us,  but 
what  could  we  do?  We  could  n't  stay  in  the  cave  and 
be  suffocated  to  death,  could  we?  So  what  we  had  to 
do  we  had  to  do  mighty  quick. 

Swatty  threw  open  the  cave  door.  He  had  picked 
up  a  stick  and  he  sort  of  waved  it  over  his  head. 
Bony  was  blubbering  again  and  I  could  n't  see  very 
well  for  the  smoke  in  my  eyes,  and  neither  could 
Swatty,  I  guess,  but  Swatty  waved  the  stick  and 
shouted : 

"Come  on,  now!"  he  shouted.  "We've  got  'em 
surrounded!  Charge  'em!  We've  got  'em  now!" 

155 


SWATTY 

Well,  the  Graveyard  kids  looked  up  at  the  top 
of  the  other  bank  and  Swatty  started  to  slide  down 
the  bank  right  at  them,  and  me  and  Bony  we  started 
to  slide  down,  and  the  Graveyard  kids  turned  and 
ran  up  the  creek.  I  guess  they  were  scared  that 
Swatty  had  seen  a  lot  more  of  our  kids  coming.  Any- 
way, they  ran  about  half  a  block  and  then  they  saw 
there  was  just  Swatty  and  Bony  and  me  and  that 
we  were  climbing  up  the  other  bank  to  get  away, 
and  they  came  for  us. 

We  did  n't  have  much  of  a  start.  We  did  n't  know 
exactly  where  we  were.  We  ran  where  the  running 
was  easiest,  and  pretty  soon  we  came  to  a  fence  and 
climbed  over  and  we  were  in  a  road.  We  turned  and 
ran  up  the  road,  and  the  first  of  the  Graveyard  kids 
was  piling  over  the  fence  already  so  we  just  let  out 
our  legs  and  ran!  Even  Bony  stopped  crying.  He 
just  turned  white  and  scared-looking  and  ran.  He 
ran  so  fast  he  ran  in  front  of  us  and  we  could  hardly 
keep  up  with  him. 

The  whole  Graveyard  Gang  was  after  us  now, 
shouting  and  running  and  pretty  soon  we  knew 
where  we  were  —  we  were  on  the  Four  Mile  Road 
because  off  in  the  distance  we  could  see  the  big  red 
building  of  the  Poor  Farm.  We  knew  that  building 
pretty  well  because  it  is  one  of  the  places  we  kept 
away  from  because  they  keep  the  crazy  folks  there. 
You  never  know  when  a  crazy  man  will  cut  you 
open  with  a  knife  or  something. 

We  did  n't  have  time  to  think  of  that  scare  then, 
156 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

we  were  so  scared  of  what  would  happen  to  us  if  the 
Graveyard  kids  caught  us.  I  guess  we  did  n't  think 
of  the  Poor  Farm  crazy  folks  at  all. 

So  pretty  soon  Bony  began  to  drop  back,  and  we 
caught  up  with  him.  It  was  thundering  and  light- 
ning hard  now  and  the  wind  was  blowing  the  way 
it  does  just  before  a  big  storm  —  big  whoofs  that 
throw  up  the  dust  in  thick  waves  and  make  the 
trees  bend  low  down  and  shake  the  leaves  out  of 
them  —  and  Bony  was  crying  again.  Swatty  shouted 
at  him,  but  we  could  n't  hear  what  he  was  saying, 
the  wind  and  the  thunder  and  trees  made  so  much 
noise.  I  looked  back  and  saw  that  the  Graveyard 
kids  were  right  after  us  and  then  —  Bony  fell  down! 

He  did  n't  fall  flat.  He  fell  half  and  took  half  a 
step  and  then  turned  and  fell  sideways,  and  when  he 
tried  to  get  up  he  could  n't.  I  ran  a  little  bit  before 
I  stopped,  but  Swatty  stopped  short  and  when  I 
looked  back  he  was  trying  to  drag  Bony  up  again. 
There  was  an  awful  flash  of  lightning,  one  of  the 
kind  you  can't  see  for  a  minute  after,  and  then  a 
bang  like  a  thousand  cannon,  only  keener,  and  a  big 
tree  at  the  side  of  the  road  just  split  in  two  and  one 
half  fell  across  the  road.  I  guess  maybe  I  cried  a 
little,  but  I  didn't  stop  to  do  it;  I  ran  back  to 
Swatty  and  Bony  and  grabbed  hold  of  Bony's  other 
arm  and  helped  Swatty  drag  him. 

I  don't  know  what  happened  to  the  Graveyard 
Gang.  I  guess  they  got  scared  of  the  storm  and  went 
home  but  we  didn't  think  of  that  then.  All  we 

157 


SWATTY 

thought  of  was  to  get  Bony  away  in  a  hurry.  It  was 
awful!  The  lightning  and  thunder  were  just  glare, 
glare,  glare!  and  bang,  bang,  bang!  and  no  rest 
in  between,  and  the  wind  was  bending  the  trees 
almost  down  to  the  ground  and  holding  them  there 
stiff,  not  swaying.  I  was  just  bellering  and  yanking 
Bony  by  the  arm  and  saying,  "Oh,  come  on,  Bony! 
Oh,  come  on,  Bony!"  over  and  over.  Swatty  was 
shouting  at  me  all  the  time,  but  I  could  n't  tell  what 
he  was  saying,  but  he  pulled  more  at  his  arm  of 
Bony  than  I  pulled  at  mine,  and  then  I  saw  he  was 
taking  him  off  the  road,  because  there  was  a  house 
right  where  we  were  and  he  wanted  to  get  him  to 
the  house. 

Just  when  we  got  Bony  onto  the  porch  of  the 
house  it  began  to  rain.  It  did  n't  rain  down,  it 
rained  straight  across,  like  the  lines  on  writing  paper, 
and  it  did  n't  rain  a  little  —  it  rained  all  the  rain 
there  ever  was  or  will  be,  I  guess.  The  rain  came  into 
that  porch  like  water  shot  out  of  a  fire  hose  nozzle, 
just  swish-swash  against  the  front  of  the  house  and 
then  up  to  your  ankles  on  the  rotten  floor  of  the 
porch.  And  then,  when  there  was  a  white  flash  of 
lightning  I  saw  where  we  were.  We  were  on  the 
porch  of  the  Haunted  House ! 

All  the  kids  knew  about  the  Haunted  House.  The 
way  I  knew  about  it  was  because  we  used  to  go  out 
the  Four  Mile  Road  nutting  and  then  we  used  to 
see  it.  Anybody  would  know  it  was  a  haunted  house 
just  by  looking  at  it.  The  glass  in  the  windows  was 

158 


WE  WERE  ON  THE  PORCH  OF  THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

all  gone  and  boards,  any  old  boards,  were  nailed 
across  the  windows,  and  the  doors  were  either  nailed 
up  or  broken  in  and  hanging  crooked  on  one  hinge. 
The  paint  was  all  off  and  the  chimneys  had  toppled 
over  and  the  bricks  and  mortar  were  all  scattered 
down  the  roof  and  some  on  the  porch  roof.  The 
shingles  were  all  curled  up  and  there  were  bare 
patches  where  they  had  blown  off. 

It  was  a  big  house,  two  stories  and  a  half,  and 
there  was  a  porch  all  across  the  front,  but  at  one 
corner  the  porch  post  had  rotted  down  so  that  the 
porch  roof  sagged  almost  to  the  floor  there,  and 
the  rest  of  the  roof  was  all  skewish.  The  floor  of  the 
porch  where  we  were  was  all  dry-rotted  and  some 
of  the  boards  were  gone,  and  the  grass  and  weeds 
grew  up  through  the  floor  everywhere.  The  yard 
was  all  weeds,  as  high  as  a  man,  and  tangled  black- 
berry bushes,  and  at  night,  so  Swatty  and  all  the 
kids  said,  something  white  used  to  come  to  the  win- 
dows and  stand  there,  and  you  could  hear  moans. 
It  was  a  haunted  house  all  right.  All  the  boys  knew 
that  and  all  the  boys  kept  away  from  it.  And  there 
we  were,  right  on  the  porch  and  the  rain  just  drown- 
ing us. 

"Come  on,  we  got  to  get  him  inside,"  Swatty  said, 
and  he  took  hold  of  Bony  again. 

I  did  n't  want  to.  It  was  bad  enough  to  be  on  the 

porch  of  a  haunted  house  or  anywhere  near  it,  but 

the  thunder  and  lightning  and  rain  and  wind  and 

everything  made  all  things  kind  of  different  than 

159 


SWATTY 

on  other  days.  It  was  n't  like  real ;  it  was  like  dreams. 
It  was  like  the  end  of  the  world,  when  you  don't 
think  what  you  do  but  just  do  it;  and  so  I  took  hold 
of  Bony  and  helped. 

We  got  Bony  to  the  front  door  and  into  the  hall 
of  the  house.  In  there  it  was  so  black  we  could  n't 
see  except  when  the  lightning  flashed,  and  then  we 
could  n't  see  much.  The  rain  was  blowing  in  at  the 
door  and  running  down  the  hall.  The  old  house 
shook  and  trembled.  A  brick  or  something  rolled 
down  the  roof  and  thumped  on  the  porch  roof. 

We  got  Bony  into  a  dry  corner  of  the  hall  and  let 
him  sit  on  the  floor  and  Swatty  tried  to  feel  Bony's 
leg  to  see  if  it  was  broken  or  what,  and  while  he  was 
doing  that  there  came  a  big  crash  and  the  rain 
stopped  coming  in  at  the  front  door.  It  was  the 
porch  roof.  It  had  blown  down  the  rest  of  the  way, 
shutting  up  the  door  and  shutting  us  in.  But  we 
did  n't  know  then  that  we  were  shut  in.  We  were 
just  frightened  by  the  noise.  We  thought  maybe  the 
house  had  been  struck  by  lightning. 

Well,  after  that  it  was  darker  in  the  house  than 
ever.  We  did  n't  get  the  light  from  the  lightning 
through  the  door  any  more,  and  we  only  got  it 
through  the  cracks  between  the  boards  at  the  win- 
dows. We  just  stood  there,  me  and  Swatty,  and 
Bony  on  the  floor,  and  listened  to  the  storm  and  the 
water  swashing  against  the  house  and  to  the  old 
house  creaking  and  grating,  and  Bony  moaned  over 
his  ankle  and  cried  because  of  everything.  I  was 
1 60 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

just  plain  scared.  I  just  stood  and  got  more  and  more 
scared.  I  tried  to  listen  whether  the  creaking  and 
grating  was  the  house  or  ghosts,  and  I  listened  so 
hard  my  ears  seemed  to  reach  out.  I  did  n't  dare  to 
breathe.  Pretty  soon  I  was  too  scared  for  any  use.  I 
said,  "Swatty!" 

"What?"  he  answered  back. 

"I'm  scared,"  I  said. 

Well,  then  Bony  began  to  beller  loud. 

"Aw,  shut  up!"  Swatty  told  him.  "I'm  scared, 
too,  ain't  I?  Feel  my  wrist,"  he  says  to  me,  "it's  all 
goose  flesh,  ain't  it?  That's  how  scared  I  am,  but  it 
don't  do  any  good  to  beller  about  it." 

So  we  just  stayed  there.  Bony  held  on  to  Swatty's 
ankle  with  one  hand  and  I  sort  of  edged  over  so  I 
was  close  to  Swatty,  and  we  just  waited,  because 
that  was  all  there  was  to  do.  So  after  a  while  the 
storm  let  up.  It  rained  a  little  yet,  but  the  thunder 
and  lightning  stopped.  The  wind  blew  some,  but  not 
so  much.  It  was  pretty  dark  in  the  house.  We  knew 
it  must  be  getting  toward  night. 

"  I  guess  we  can  go  now,"  Swatty  said,  and  I  was 
glad  of  it.  We  boosted  Bony  up  so  he  could  hobble  on 
one  leg  between  us  and  we  went  to  the  front  door. 
Well,  we  could  n't  get  out! 

And  that  was  n't  the  worst  of  it;  every  other  way 
out  was  boarded  up!  We  went  all  around  the  first 
floor  and  tried  all  the  windows  and  the  back  door 
and  they  were  all  boarded  up.  We  were  fastened 
tight  into  the  Haunted  House. 
161 


SWATTY 

It  was  pretty  bad  going  into  the  dark  rooms,  one 
after  another,  not  knowing  whether  something 
would  jump  out  at  you,  and  I  guess  me  and  Bony 
would  n't  have  done  it  if  Swatty  had  n't  made  us. 
But  there  was  n't  any  way  out,  and  that  was  n't  the 
worst.  There  was  n't  even  a  little  piece  of  board  to 
pry  the  boards  off  the  windows.  There  was  n't  a 
loose  brick  or  anything.  Nothing  but  dust,  and 
maybe  a  couple  of  pieces  of  paper. 

"What '11  we  do?"  I  asked,  awfully  scared. 

"Garsh!  I  don't  know!"  Swatty  said.  "We  got  to 
get  out  somehow.  We  '11  starve  to  death  here  if  we 
don't.  We  got  to  get  something  to  pry  off  a  board 
from  a  window." 

Well,  there  was  n't  anything  to  pry  one  off  with. 
Not  down  where  we  were.  So  Swatty  said,  all  of  a 
sudden: 

"Come  on !  I 'm  going  to  see  if  there 's  anything  we 
can  get  upstairs." 

"Aw,  no,  Swatty!"  I  begged.  "Don't  go  up  there! 
I  don't  want  to  go  up!" 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to,  do  you?"  he  said.  "I 
did  n't  ask  you  to.  I  said  I  was  going." 

So  he  went  alone,  and  I  stayed  down  with  Bony. 
We  were  all  alone  in  the  dark  down  there  and  Swatty 
went  up  the  stairs.  He  went  up  a  step  at  a  time  and 
then  stopped  and  listened,  and  then  he  went  up  an- 
other step  and  listened.  Pretty  soon  he  got  to  the  top 
of  the  stairs  and  then  we  heard  him  going  from  one 
room  to  another  and  feeling  with  his  foot  for  a  board 
162 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

or  something  that  would  do  to  pry  our  way  out. 
Then  we  did  n't  hear  him  for  a  minute,  I  guess. 

Pretty  soon  he  came  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  He 
leaned  over  the  balusters. 

"Hey !  George !  Come  on  up,"  he  said  in  a  whisper. 
"There  ain't  nothing  up  here.  I  want  to  go  up  in  the 
attic." 

Bony  would  n't  go.  Swatty  had  to  come  down  and 
talk  to  him  like  a  Dutch  uncle  and  tell  him  what 
he  thought  of  him,  and  then  he  blubbered  while  we 
were  helping  him  up  the  stairs.  He  said  it  was  all 
right  for  us  to  go  up  because  if  anything  —  he  did  n't 
say  a  ghost,  because  he  was  afraid  to,  but  that  was 
what  he  meant  —  jumped  out  at  us  we  could  run, 
but  he  could  n't  because  his  ankle  was  sprained. 
But  we  got  him  up  all  right. 

We  got  him  up  and  I  stayed  with  him  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs,  and  Swatty  went  and  opened  the  attic 
stair  door.  He  opened  it,  and  then  he  stood  there  a 
second.  Even  where  I  was  I  could  hear  it.  It  was  like 
a  groan  —  like  a  long,  sick  sort  of  groan  —  and  it 
was  from  up  there  in  the  attic.  I  turned  so  stiff  and 
cold  I  could  n't  open  or  shut  my  lips.  I  could  n't 
breathe.  I  was  like  ice,  numb  and  cold  all  over  ex- 
cept my  hair  pulled  upward  all  over  my  head.  A 
ghost  could  have  come  and  put  its  cold  hand  on  me 
and  I  could  n't  have  moved. 

"Oh!  Oh — !"  came  that  long  moan  from  up  in 
the  attic.  Bony  stood  up,  and  his  ankle  gave  way  and 
he  fell  down  the  stairs  —  all  the  way  to  the  bottom. 
163 


SWATTY 

He  stayed  there,  just  calling  out,  "Swatty,  Swatty !" 
over  and  over. 

It  was  dark  there  now,  dead  dark.  All  at  once  I 
screamed.  Something  had  touched  me  on  the  arm. 

"Aw,  shut  up!"  Swatty  said,  because  it  was 
Swatty  that  had  touched  me.  "Shut  up  and  don't  be 
a  baby !  I  Ve  got  to  go  up  there,  and  you  Ve  got  to  go 
up  with  me." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  don't  want  to  go  up  there  alone,"  he 
said.  "That's  why  if  you  want  to  know." 

"What  do  you  want  to  go  up  for,  anyway?" 

"Well,  you  won't  go  up  alone,  will  you?  And 
Bony  won't  go  up  alone,  will  he?  Somebody's  got  to 
go  up  and  see  if  there 's  anything  up  there  we  can  pry 
our  way  out  with.  Come  on !  That  noise  ain't  nothin* 
but  the  wind,  or  maybe  an  owl,  or  something  else." 

So  I  had  to  go.  I  made  Swatty  go  first,  and  he 
went  up  the  attic  stairs  real  slow,  and  I  did  n't 
crowd  him  any,  you  bet !  At  the  top  of  the  stairs  he 
stopped  short.  So  I  stopped  short. 

"What's  the  matter?"  I  whispered.  Swatty  stood 
still. 

"There's  something  up  here  or  somebody  — 
something  alive,"  he  whispered  back  in  terror. 

And  there  was !  Between  the  moans  I  could  hear 
it  breathe,  a  long  breath,  like  "Ah-ah!"  So  the  next 
thing  I  knew  I  was  down  two  flights  of  stairs  at  the 
front  door,  trying  to  scratch  my  way  through  the 
porch  roof  with  my  finger  nails,  and  Bony  was  hang- 
164 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

ing  onto  my  legs,  and  we  were  both  scared  stiff.  I 
guess  it  was  n't  so  long  after  we  heard  something 
breathe  in  the  attic,  about  a  second  after,  maybe. 
And  I  could  n't  scratch  my  way  out.  So  I  began  to 
yell:  "Swatty!  Oh,  Swatty!  Come  here;  why  don't 
you  come  here?  Oh,  Swatty,  come!"  And  Bony 
yelled  too.  We  both  did.  I  guess  we  both  cried,  we 
were  so  scared  and  frightened  and  afraid.  Shut  in  a 
haunted  house  like  that  and  something  moaning  and 
breathing  in  the  attic!  Anybody  would  be  scared. 
Anybody  but  Swatty. 

Afterward,  the  next  time  we  got  together  after 
Bony's  ankle  was  well  and  after  the  manager  of  the 
Poor  Farm  had  given  us  each  a  watch  and  chain  for 
what  we  did,  Swatty  said  he  was  n't  scared  when  he 
heard  the  groaner  breathe,  because  he  had  heard  his 
folks's  cow  when  it  had  the  colic,  and  that  was  the 
way  the  cow  groaned  and  breathed  when  it  had  it. 
Anyway,  when  I  ran  away  from  him  and  left  him 
alone  he  stood  and  listened,  and  then  he  went  up  the 
last  step  and  listened  again.  It  was  black  up  there. 
So  he  said,  "Who's  there?"  and  waited  and  the 
groaning  kept  on.  So  he  walked  right  over  toward 
where  the  groaning  kept  coming  from.  He  walked 
slowly,  pushing  one  foot  ahead  of  him  and  holding 
out  both  hands,  because  the  floor  might  not  be  all 
there,  and  all  at  once  his  foot  hit  something  hard 
and  cold.  He  was  barefoot,  like  all  of  us. 

It  might  have  been  a  snake.  It  might  have  been 
anything,  for  all  Swatty  knew,  but  he  bent  down 
165 


SWATTY 

and  felt  it  with  his  hand.  I  would  n't  have  done  it  for 
a  million  dollars,  and  Bony  would  n't  have  done  it 
for  ten  million  dollars!  No,  sir!  So  at  first  Swatty 
thought  it  was  an  old  scythe  blade  somebody  had 
left  there,  and  he  was  mighty  glad  anyway,  because 
it  would  do  to  pry  the  boards  off  a  window  and  let 
us  out,  but  when  he  tried  to  pick  it  up  it  was  held 
onto. 

Well,  I  guess  I  might  as  well  say  it  right  out.  It 
was  a  sword,  and  it  was  Mrs.  Groogs's  sword,  and  it 
was  old  Mrs.  Groogs  that  was  holding  onto  the  other 
end  of  the  sword  and  lying  there  and  groaning  and 
breathing!  It  was  her  son's  sword,  and  he  had  been 
killed  in  the  war  Grant  and  Lincoln  and  Swatty's 
father  had  been  in,  and  when  she  ran  away  from  the 
Poor  Farm  and  they  could  n't  find  out  where  she 
had  gone,  that  was  all  she  took  and  that  was  where 
she  went  to  die  —  there  in  the  attic  of  the  Haunted 
House.  She  went  there  because  she  was  kind  of  crazy 
and  thought  the  mother  of  a  son  that  had  died  for  his 
country  ought  n't  to  die  in  the  Poor  House.  But  she 
did  n't  die  in  it,  either,  because  the  Woman's  Relief 
Corps  rented  a  room  for  her  and  the  city  gave  her 
Outside  Support  again. 

So  if  it  had  n't  been  for  us  Mrs.  Groogs  would 
have  starved  to  death  in  the  Haunted  House,  and  if 
it  had  n't  been  for  her  and  her  sword  maybe  we 
would  have  starved  to  death  in  it.  So  I  guess  it  was 
all  right. 

So  that  time  none  of  us  got  licked  when  we  got 
1 66 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE 

home.  Swatty  did  n't  because  his  father  was  a 
G.A.R.  and  Mrs.  Groogs  was  a  G.A.R.-ess,  and  I 
did  n't  because  my  folks  were  glad  I  had  n't  been 
struck  by  lightning,  and  Bony  did  n't  because  his 
folks  were  moral  suasion.  They  jawed  him. 


VIII 

WASTED  EFFORT 

WELL,  a  good  many  things  happened  that  vacation. 
Fan  stayed  over  at  Chicago  and  Herb  Schwartz 
began  studying  to  be  a  lawyer  in  Judge  Hannan's 
law  office.  Miss  Carter  went  off  to  a  school  some- 
where but  I  don't  know  whether  she  was  teaching 
or  learning.  Mamie  Little  was  down  at  Betzville,  on 
a  farm,  and  Lucy  never  did  tag  along  with  us  any- 
way, so  it  looked  as  if  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  was 
<?oing  to  have  one  of  the  best  vacations  we  ever  had. 
/e  used  to  go  up  to  our  cave  and  work  on  it. 
Scratch-Cat  went  with  us  mostly,  but  we  did  n't 
count  her  for  a  girl.  So  it  looked  pretty  good. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  liked  vacation  because 
we  never  did  have  time  to  do  all  we  wanted  to  do 
when  school  kept.  What  we  wanted  to  do  most  was 
to  finish  up  our  cave  in  the  clay  bank  up  Squaw 
Creek.  The  Graveyard  Gang  had  chased  us  away 
from  it,  but  that  was  all  right  when  vacation  came 
because  the  Graveyard  Gang  kids  all  have  to  go  to 
work  when  school  is  over.  Some  of  them  work  for 
the  farmers  on  the  Island,  and  some  work  in  the  saw- 
mills. So  we  went  up  and  looked  at  the  cave. 

The  cave  was  all  right.  The  Graveyard  Gang  had 
fixed  up  the  door  and  made  it  look  better,  and  the 
stove  was  there,  and  they  had  made  another  room 
168 


WASTED  EFFORT 

to  the  cave,  in  behind,  only  it  was  n't  all  dug  out 
yet.  So  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  and  Scratch-Cat 
thought  we  would  finish  digging  the  new  room  and 
then,  maybe,  we  would  get  a  Catling  gun  or  some- 
thing and  put  it  in  the  cave,  so  we  could  hold  the 
fort  when  school  began  again  and  the  Graveyard 
Gang  tried  to  chase  us  out  again.  Swatty  said 
maybe  his  uncle  would  give  him  a  Gatling  gun  for 
his  birthday  if  he  wrote  to  Derlingport  and  asked 
him.  So  me  and  Bony  thought  that  sounded  good, 
and  we  went  ahead  and  dug  at  the  cave. 

Well,  it  looked  like  we  was  going  to  have  the  best 
vacation  we  ever  had.  I  guess  we  ought  to  have 
known  that  when  everything  looked  so  bully  some- 
thing was  going  to  spoil  it  all.  It  was  too  good  to  be 
right.  Swatty's  mother's  cow  went  dry,  and  Swatty 
did  n't  have  to  go  home  early  to  get  her  from  the  pas- 
ture so  he  could  deliver  the  milk  around  to  the  neigh- 
bors, and  that  was  too  good  to  be  right ;  and  Bony 
sort  of  stopped  bawling  at  every  little  thing,  and 
that  was  n't  like  him.  We  ought  to  have  knowed 
something  was  going  to  happen. 

It  was  too  nice.  Most  always,  in  vacation,  my 
mother  made  me  and  my  sister  wash  and  wipe  the 
dinner  dishes  at  noon,  and  it  did  n't  do  any  good  to 
drop  plates  and  break  them,  or  whine,  or  get  a  bad 
headache  all  of  a  sudden ;  I  had  to  wipe.  There  ought 
to  be  a  law  so  boys  could  n't  wipe  dishes,  but  there 
ain't ;  so  about  all  I  could  ever  do  was  to  wipe  them 
as  mean  as  I  could  and  leave  the  butter  between  the 
169 


SWATTY 

tines  of  the  forks  when  my  sister  did  n't  wash  it  all 
out. 

Well,  when  this  vacation  came  I  thought  I  'd  have 
to  start  in  wiping  the  doggone  dishes  again ;  but  I 
did  n't.  My  mother  got  back  the  hired  girl  we  had 
off  and  on.  Her  name  was  Annie  Dornbacher  and 
she  was  a  strong  girl  and  a  happy  one,  and  she 
did  n't  care  any  more  for  work  than  shucks.  She 
could  wash  and  wipe  dishes  and  enjoy  it,  so  maybe 
she  was  crazy;  but  what  did  I  care  if  she  was?  She 
pitched  in  and  even  carried  in  her  own  wood,  and 
made  a  jar  of  cookies  every  two  days.  I  thought  it 
was  bully.  I  ought  to  have  knowed  better.  I  ought 
to  have  knowed  that  mothers  don't  get  hired  girls 
that  will  carry  in  the  wood  and  everything  unless 
they ' ve  got  something  mean  they  are  going  to  do  to 
a  fellow  pretty  soon. 

The  first  thing  that  happened  was  Bony.  Me  and 
Swatty  had  got  so  we  did  n't  hardly  think  of  Bony 
as  a  cry-baby  any  more,  and  here  all  at  once  he  was 
different.  He  used  to  come  yelling  and  "yoo-ooing" 
to  meet  us,  and  then  one  noon  he  come  sort  of 
sneaking,  like  a  dog  you've  told  to  go  home  and 
thrown  a  stone  at.  He  come  up  to  us,  mighty  quiet 
and  looking  pretty  sick,  and  did  n't  say  nothing. 

"What's  the  matter,  Bony?"  Swatty  asked. 

"Nothing.  You  'tend  your  own  business,  can't 
you?"  he  answered  back. 

But  it  was  n't  scrappy  the  way  he  said  it;  it  was 
whiny. 

170 


WASTED  EFFORT 

So  I  started  to  say  something,  but  Swatty  stopped 
me. 

"Aw!  let  him  be!"  he  said.  "If  he  wants  to  be  a 
whine-cat  let  him  be  one.  What  do  we  care?" 

So  we  let  him.  He  came  along  to  the  cave  with  us 
and  dug;  but  he  didn't  seem  to  have  no  fun.  It 
would  n't  have  taken  much  to  make  him  blubber. 
He  acted  ashamed,  that 's  what ! 

Well,  that  was  one  day,  and  the  next  morning  he 
was  just  as  bad.  We  teased  him  some  that  morning, 
but  he  took  it  and  never  jawed  back.  Then  he  went 
down  to  the  creek  to  get  a  drink,  and  me  and  Swatty 
talked  about  him.  Bony's  father  and  mother  fought 
a  good  deal  with  their  jaws  sometimes,  like  when  we 
thought  Bony's  father  was  going  across  the  river  to 
kill  himself  and  we  went  to  keep  him  from  it,  and 
me  and  Swatty  decided  there  must  be  a  big  fight 
going  on  at  Bony's  house,  because  that  always  makes 
a  fellow  feel  cheap  and  mean.  So  we  said  we  would  n't 
tease  him  about  it.  So  Bony  came  back  and  we  dug 
awhile  and  went  home  to  dinner. 

And  the  next  thing  was  that  Mamie  Little  came 
back  from  Betzville  and  began  playing  with  Lucy 
and  Toady  Williams  again,  and  that  made  me  feel 
mean.  And  then  Fan  came  back  from  Chicago. 

So,  one  day  after  dinner  I  had  to  go  for  an  errand 
for  my  mother,  and  when  I  came  back  Swatty  and 
Bony  had  n't  come  yet,  but  Mamie  Little  was  at  our 
house  waiting  for  my  sister.  She  was  on  the  front  ter- 
race braiding  the  grass  where  it  was  long.  So  I  picked 
171 


SWATTY 

some  grass  and  made  a  ball  of  it  and  threw  it  at  her 
and  she  said  to  stop,  and  I  got  some  more  and  was 
going  to  throw  it  at  her,  and  I  felt  pretty  good,  be- 
cause she  said:  "Oh,  George!  now  don't!"  but  just 
then  my  father  came  out  of  the  house,  so  I  stopped. 
I  had  thought  he  had  gone  already.  I  stood  and 
did  n't  do  anything  until  he  went  by,  and  then  I 
happened  to  think  I  had  left  my  nigger-shooter  on 
my  bureau  in  my  room  and  I  went  to  get  it. 

I  went  into  the  house  and  up  the  stairs  on  the 
jump  and  busted  into  my  room,  and  then  stopped 
mighty  short  because  my  mother  was  in  my  room. 
She  was  at  my  bureau  and  had  a  drawer  pulled 
out  and  was  taking  out  some  of  my  clothes.  So 
I  grabbed  my  nigger-shooter  off  the  bureau  and 
was  going  to  go  mighty  quick,  because  mothers  al- 
ways think  of  something  for  you  to  do  when  they 
see  you. 

"George,"  she  said,  "you  are  going  over  to  your 
Aunt  Nell's  to  stay  a  week  or  two.  I'll  get  your 
clothes  all  ready,  and  I  want  you  to  be  a  good  boy 
while  you're  there  and  be  as  little  trouble  as  pos- 
sible." 

"Aw,  gee!"  I  said.  "What  do  I  have  to  go  over 
there  for?" 

It  made  me  sick,  because  Aunt  Nell  is  always  try- 
ing to  do  right  by  me  when  I  'm  over  there  and  comb- 
ing my  hair  and  making  me  wash  my  feet  before  I 
go  to  bed  and  everything.  So  I  said: 

"Aw,  gee!  I  don't  want  to!" 
172 


WASTED  EFFORT 

My  mother  went  right  on  taking  clothes  out  of  my 
bureau. 

"I'm  going  to  tell  you  something,  Georgie,  and 
then  perhaps  you  will  be  more  reasonable.  You  and 
Lucy  are  going  to  Aunt  Nell's  because  there  is  a 
little  new  baby  coming  here.  Now,  will  you  be  a 
good  boy  and  say  nothing  more?" 

"  Yes'm,"  I  said,  and  I  got  out  of  the  room  pretty 
quick.  I  tiptoed  down  the  stairs  and  stood  at  the 
bottom.  I  did  n't  know  whether  to  go  out  or  not. 
Bony  and  Swatty  were  out  there  now,  and  Mamie 
Little  and  Scratch-Cat,  and  I  did  n't  know  how  I 
would  dare  talk  to  them.  I  sort  of  felt  like  they  would 
see  it  in  my  face.  If  they  did  I  would  feel  so  mean 
I'd  die. 

I  guess  you  know  how  a  fellow  feels  about  it.  Any 
fellow  would  almost  rather  go  to  jail  than  have  a 
baby  come  to  his  house.  The  fellows  yell  at  him, 
"Aw,  Georgie,  you  got  a  baby  at  your  house."  And 
he  knows  it  is  so  and  he  can't  tell  them  they  're  liars. 

But  just  then  my  mother  came  out  of  my  room 
and  said:  "Georgie!" 

So  I  got  out  of  the  front  door  in  a  hurry.  I  was 
afraid  she  was  going  to  say  something  about  it  again. 
Women  don't  know  any  better;  they'll  say  anything 
right  out  and  think  it  is  all  right  and  don't  care  how 
a  fellow  feels  sick  to  hear  it.  So  I  skipped.  I  went 
down  to  the  front  gate,  and  Swatty  and  Bony  and 
Mamie  Little  and  Scratch-Cat  were  there.  Bony  was 
off  to  one  side,  looking  sick,  and  Swatty  was  "  Aw- 

173 


SWATTY 

ing"  at  Mamie  Little  about  something,  but  I  felt 
too  mean  and  cheap  to  "Aw!"  back  at  him,  like  I 
ought  to  have  done.  I  let  him  "Aw!"  I  got  as  far 
away  from  Mamie  Little  as  I  could  and  went  over 
and  sat  by  Bony  and  Scratch-Cat. 

Well,  all  at  once  I  guessed  maybe  I  knew  what 
was  the  matter  with  Bony,  because  I  felt  just  like 
the  way  he  had  been  acting.  So  I  said : 

"Say,  Bony,  are  you  going  to  have  a  baby  at  your 
house?" 

He  got  sort  of  red  and  did  n't  dare  look  at  me. 
Then  he  began  to  cry,  mad-like. 

"I  don't  care!"  he  blubbered  out.  "If  you  tell 
anybody  I  '11  lick  you,  I  will,  I  don't  care  who  you 
are!  I'll  —  I'll  shoot  you.  I'll  kill  you!" 

Scratch-Cat  didn't  laugh.  She  just  said,  "Oh!" 

So  I  knew  that  was  it.  So  just  then  Mamie  Little 
called  out,  "Oh,  Georgie."  But  I  just  hollered,  "Aw, 
shut  up!"  So  I  said:  "Aw,  come  on,  Swatty,  let's 
go  up  to  the  cave." 

Well,  just  then  my  sister  came  out  of  the  house. 
She  had  on  a  clean  dress,  and  she  came  hippety- 
hopping  down  the  walk  as  happy  as  could  be  and 
happier.  She  came  right  down  to  where  Swatty  was 
teasing  Mamie  Little,  and  she  said: 

"Mamie!  Mamie!  What  do  you  think?  We're  go- 
ing to  have  a  little  new  baby!" 

Well,  I  got  up  and  climbed  over  the  fence  and  ran. 
I  don't  know  how  I  ever  got  over  a  fence  so  quick  — • 
pickets  and  all  —  but  I  did,  and  I  ran  up  the  street 

174 


WASTED  EFFORT 

with  my  hands  over  my  ears.  I  knewSwatty  knew 
and  Mamie  Little  knew  and  that  they  were  thinking: 
"Ho!  Georgie  is  going  to  have  a  new  baby  at  his 
house."  And  I  was  trying  to  run  away.  When  I  came 
to  the  corner  I  dodged  behind  it  and  stopped. 

Almost  right  away  Bony  came  and  Swatty  came 
right  after  him,  and  Scratch-Cat  after  Swatty,  but  we 
made  her  go  back  again.  We  did  n't  want  any  girls 
around  at  all.  Swatty  was  almost  as  sore  as  me  and 
Bony  was.  He  just  threw  himself  down  on  the  grass 
and  said,  "Garsh!" 

"Well,  you  don't  need  to  go  and  blame  me,"  I 
said.  "  I  ain't  the  only  one.  Bony 's  going  to  have  one 
at  his  house,  too." 

So  then  Swatty  sat  up. 

"Aw,  garsh!"  he  said.  "You  and  Bony's  always 
spoiling  all  our  fun.  I  ought  to  have  knowed  what 
was  the  matter  with  him,  and  now  you  '11  be  the  same 
way.  You  bet  I  don't  have  no  babies  coming  to  my 
house,  making  everybody  grouchy.  But  you  and 
Bony  don't  care ;  you  don't  care  how  you  spoil  the 
fun." 

Bony  did  n't  say  anything,  but  it  made  me  mad. 

"Well,  it  ain't  my  fault,  is  it?"  I  asked.  "I  don't 
want  no  baby  to  come  to  my  house,  do  I?  I  did  n't 
order  it  from  the  doctor,  did  I?" 

"What  doctor?"  Swatty  asked.  "What  has  a  doc- 
tor got  to  do  with  it?" 

"Well,  a  doctor  brings  it,  don't  he?"  I  asked. 

"No,  he  don't!"  Swatty  said.  "A  stork  brings  it. 

175 


SWATTY 

My  mother  told  me  so  a  million  times,  and  I  guess 
she  knows,  don't  she?" 

"Aw!  That's  in  Germany,"  I  said.  "I  know  that, 
I  guess.  In  Germany  a  stork  brings  it,  but  how  can  it 
in  the  United  States  where  there  ain't  no  storks? 
Did  you  ever  see  a  stork  in  the  United  States?" 

"Well,  no,"  Swatty  had  to  say,  because  he  did  n't. 

"Well,  you've  seen  plenty  of  doctors  in  the  United 
States,  have  n't  you?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  Swatty  had  to  say,  because  he  had.  He 
saw  Doctor  Miller  almost  every  day,  starting  out  or 
coming  back  with  his  old  gray  mare.  He  was  our 
doctor  and  Bony's  folks'  doctor,  but  Swatty's  folks 
had  Doctor  Benz,  because  they  were  German  and 
water-curers.  Doctor  Miller  was  a  big-piller.  So 
Swatty  had  to  say  yes. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "don't  that  prove  it?"  Of  course 
it  did.  Swatty  had  to  say  it  did.  So  he  said: 

"Well,  garsh!  if  doctors  bring  them  in  the  United 
States  I  guess  I  would  n't  be  sitting  around  whining 
if  I  was  you  and  Bony.  I  know  what  I'd  do!" 

"What  would  you  do?"  I  asked. 

"  I  would  n't  let  a  doctor  bring  any,  that's  what  I 
would  n't  do,"  said  Swatty.  "  I  'd  find  out  what  doc- 
tor was  going  to  bring  it,  and  I'd  fix  him  all  right, 
you  bet  your  boots!" 

"Well,  Doctor  Miller  is  going  to  bring  them,  if 
anybody  does,"  I  said.  "He's  our  doctor  and  he's 
Bony's  doctor,  ain't  he?  What  can  me  and  Bony  do, 
I'd  like  to  know?" 

176 


WASTED  EFFORT 

"Well,  I  could  help  you,  couldn't  I?"  Swatty 
wanted  to  know.  "I  would  n't  have  to  go  back  on 
you  just  because  Doctor  Miller  is  n't  our  doctor, 
would  I?" 

"Well,  what  would  we  do,  then?"  I  asked,  but 
you  bet  I  felt  a  whole  lot  better;  if  Swatty  was  will- 
ing to  help  us  it  was  different.  He  was  a  good  helper. 
Bony  looked  better,  too. 

Swatty  pulled  a  handful  of  grass  and  fooled  with 
it  and  I  could  see  he  was  thinking  mighty  hard. 

"We've  got  the  cave,  ain't  we?"  he  said  after 
while.  "Well,  then,  all  we've  got  to  do  is  to  get  Doc- 
tor Miller  and  put  him  in  the  cave  and  keep  him 
there,  and  then  he  can't  do  anything  about  it,  can 
he?" 

Of  course  that  was  so.  I  would  n't  have  thought 
of  it,  and  Bony  would  n't,  but  Swatty  thought  of  it 
in  less  than  a  minute.  But  right  away  I  thought  of 
how  hard  it  would  be  to  do.  If  Doctor  Miller  had 
been  a  kid  it  would  have  been  easy,  but  he  was  a 
man  and  he  was  a  mighty  big  man,  too.  He  was 
bigger  around  than  any  man  in  town,  I  guess,  and 
almost  as  tall. 

I  asked  Swatty,  and  he  said  of  course  we  could  n't 
grab  Doctor  Miller  and  push  him  a  mile  or  so  out  to 
the  cave  and  boost  him  up  the  clay  bank  and  into 
the  cave. 

"We've  got  to  think  out  a  plan,"  he  said,  only  he 
said  "plarn,"  like  he  always  does,  and  "gart,"  in- 
stead of  "got."  So  we  thought,  and  it  was  n't  any 
177 


SWATTY 

use.  So  Swatty  said  we  might  as  well  go  out  to  the 
cave  and  do  some  work  and  think  out  there.  So  we 
went. 

The  more  I  thought  the  more  I  could  n't  think  of 
anything.  All  I  could  think  of  was  how  big  Doctor 
Miller  was,  and  I  guess  Bony  thought  the  same 
thing.  I  thought  of  his  whiskers,  too. 

You're  always  kind  of  scared  of  a  doctor,  almost 
like  you're  scared  of  a  minister.  They  ain't  like 
common  folks.  Common  folks  are  just  men,  except 
when  they  are  your  fathers ;  but  ministers  and  doc- 
tors are  men  and  something  else,  and  Doctor  Miller 
was  more  doctory  than  any  other  doctor  in  town. 
That  was  why  so  many  folks  had  him.  He  had  red- 
brown  whiskers  and  nothing  on  his  chin  or  upper 
lip,  and  his  whiskers  were  not  stiff  and  tough  like 
whiskers  generally  are,  but  smooth  and  silky  and 
fluffy.  He  laughed  a  lot,  too,  and  was  always  smiling, 
but  he  knew  all  about  your  insides  better  than  you 
did.  It  is  creepy  to  see  a  man  smiling  so  much  and 
feel  that  he  knows  more  about  you  than  you  do 
yourself.  And  so  you  were  mighty  scared  of  him. 

Well,  we  did  n't  think  of  anything,  and  I  went 
home  feeling  pretty  mean  and  went  in  the  alley  way 
and  my  mother  was  keeping  supper  for  me  and  had 
my  things  and  sister's  all  ready  for  us  to  go  over  to 
Aunt  Nell's  and  after  supper  she  kissed  us  and  we 
went.  She  gave  me  a  dollar  and  she  gave  Sis  fifty 
cents,  and  she  hugged  us  a  long  time  before  she  let 
us  go. 

178 


WASTED  EFFORT 

The  next  morning  Aunt  Nell  started  right  in  on 
me.  She  made  me  go  upstairs  and  brush  my  hair 
again  and  looked  at  my  finger  nails  and  in  my  ears, 
and  then  said  I  did  n't  look  as  well  as  usual  and 
wanted  to  know  if  I  slept  well.  I  got  away  as  soon  as 
I  could  and  went  up  to  the  cave.  Swatty  and  Bony 
was  there  already,  digging  at  the  roof  of  the  back 
room  of  the  cave. 

"  What  you  doing  that  for?"  I  asked.  " If  you  dig 
up  there  much  more  the  roof  will  bust  through." 

"Well,  ain't  that  what  we  want  it  to  do? "  Swatty 
asked. 

"Why  do  we?"  I  asked  back. 

"You  come  on  and  help  us  work,"  he  said,  "and 
I  '11  tell  you  why." 

So  I  helped  them  work  and  Swatty  told  me  he 
had  thought  of  a  bully  plan.  I  would  n't  have  thought 
of  it  in  a  thousand  years.  I  had  stayed  awake  all 
night  —  or  anyway  almost  half  an  hour  —  trying 
to  think  how  we  could  get  Doctor  Miller  into  the 
cave,  and  all  I  could  think  of  was  grabbing  him 
somehow  and  tying  ropes  to  him  and  yanking  him 
up  to  the  door  of  the  cave,  and  I  knew  we  could  n't 
do  it,  because  we  were  n't  strong  enough.  But 
Swatty  had  thought  it  all  out,  like  he  always  does. 
I  might  have  known  he  would. 

We  went  ahead  and  dug  at  the  roof  of  the  cave, 

and  pretty  soon  we  dug  through  to  daylight.  It  took 

us  all  day  and  the  dirt  we  got  we  spaded  into  the 

tunnel  between  the  two  rooms  and  filled  it  up  good 

179 


SWATTY 

and  solid,  except  a  short  way  out  of  the  front  room. 
The  next  day  we  worked  hard,  too.  We  dug  out 
more  of  the  roof  of  the  back  room,  and  then  worked 
on  the  door  of  the  cave  so  we  could  fasten  it  up 
sound  and  quick  when  we  got  the  doctor  in  it.  We 
took  the  stove  out  and  everything  else  he  could  use 
to  dig  with,  and  when  we  had  to  go  home  for  supper 
we  had  it  all  ready.  Swatty  said  so. 

Well,  all  of  us  knew  Jake  Hines,  the  doctor's  hired 
man,  and  he  was  foreman  of  Fearless  Hose  Company 
No.  2,  and  every  night  he  went  over  to  the  hose- 
house  and  played  cards  after  he  got  his  work  done 
at  the  doctor's.  I  went  to  bed  about  nine  o'clock, 
but  I  left  my  clothes  on,  and  when  I  thought  it  was 
midnight  I  got  up  and  went  downstairs  and  went 
out  into  the  alley.  Swatty  was  there  already,  sitting 
in  the  shadow  of  Doc  Miller's  manure  box,  but 
Bony  had  n't  come,  so  we  guessed  he  was  a  'fraid- 
cat  and  did  n't  dare.  So  we  went  ahead  without  him. 

The  doctor's  old  gray  mare  was  standing  with  her 
head  at  the  little  square  window,  and  Swatty  got  on 
the  manure  box  and  climbed  in.  He  opened  the 
stable  door  and  I  went  in  after  him.  The  old  mare 
looked  around  at  us,  but  she  did  n't  make  any 
trouble,  and  Swatty  untied  the  halter  strap  and 
we  led  her  out  into  the  alley.  We  led  her  across  the 
public  square,  and  down  into  the  creek  and  then  up 
the  creek  to  where  our  cave  was.  She  came  right 
along  as  easy  as  anything  and  we  got  her  up  the 
bank  and  to  where  we  had  caved  in  the  roof  of  the 
1 80 


WASTED  EFFORT 

back  cave.  She  did  n't  want  to  go  down  there.  I 
guess  she  thought  it  was  kind  of  funny  to  be  taken 
into  a  hole  like  that,  but  a  doctor's  horse  is  used  to 
being  out  at  night  and  to  going  into  all  sorts  of 
places,  and  at  last  she  set  her  front  feet  and  slid 
down.  It  was  pretty  steep,  but  she  went  down  easy. 
Swatty  tied  the  halter  strap  to  one  of  her  front  feet 
and  we  left  her  there. 

We  went  back  home  and  I  went  to  bed.  I  was 
pretty  scared.  I  thought  the  doctor  would  get  up  in 
the  morning  and  see  his  mare  was  gone  and  would 
get  a  lot  of  people  and  police  and  there  would  be 
crowds  hunting  the  mare.  I  had  pretty  bad  dreams. 
I  dreamed  I  was  hung  about  eight  times  for  horse 
stealing. 

When  I  got  up  in  the  morning  I  was  mighty  sick 
of  it,  you  bet.  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would  n't  do  any 
more,  no  matter  how  many  babies  the  doctor 
brought  to  our  house.  I  would  stay  at  Aunt  Nell's 
and  let  on  I  did  n't  know  anything  about  gray  mares 
or  anything.  I  was  through. 

So  about  nine  o'clock,  Swatty  came  to  Aunt  Nell's 
to  get  me,  and  he  was  just  hopping,  he  was  so  tickled. 

' '  Garsh !  "  he  said.  "  It 's  better  than  I  ever  thort  it 
would  be.  I  came  through  the  alley  and  Jake  Hines 
was  sitting  on  the  manure  box  waiting  for  the  mare 
to  come  home.  And  what  do  you  think?" 

"What?"  I  asked. 

"He  said  he  would  give  me  a  quarter  if  I  found  the 
mare,"  Swatty  said.  "He  said  he  guessed  he  had  left 
181 


SWATTY 

the  stable  door  open  and  she  had  wandered  away 
and  maybe  she  would  come  back,  but  if  I  hunted 
around  and  found  her  and  brought  her  back  he 
would  give  me  a  quarter.  So  I'm  hunting  around 
for  her." 

Well,  I  did  n't  feel  so  bad.  Bony  came  and  said  it 
was  n't  because  he  was  scared  that  he  did  n't  come 
out  last  night,  but  because  he  had  gone  to  sleep  and 
had  n't  waked  up.  So  Swatty  talked  some  more  and 
we  all  felt  fine.  We  seen  it  was  bully.  So  I  took  my 
dollar,  like  we  had  fixed  it  for  me  to  do,  and  I  bought 
some  bread  and  some  butter  and  some  things  to  eat 
while  Swatty  and  Bony  went  out  to  the  cave.  We 
did  n't  want  Doctor  Miller  to  starve  to  death  while 
we  had  him  locked  in  the  cave  because  that  would 
be  murder.  So  I  took  what  I  had  bought  to  the  cave 
and  we  put  it  where  the  doctor  could  see  it,  and  then 
we  went  down  to  the  doctor's  house.  It  was  about 
ten  o'clock.  We  went  to  the  front  door  and  rung  the 
bell  and  Mrs.  Miller  came  to  the  door. 

"Is  Doctor  Miller  at  home?"  Swatty  asked. 

She  said  he  was,  and  Swatty  told  her  we  had 
found  his  horse,  and  she  said  she  would  tell  him.  He 
came  right  out.  He  looked  sort  of  jolly  and  he  said: 

"Well,  boys,  I  suppose  you  are  looking  for  a 
reward.  Did  you  bring  old  Jenny  home?" 

"No,  sir,"  Swatty  said.  "We  would  of  but  we 
could  n't.  We  could  n't  get  her  out  of  the  hole." 

So  he  wanted  to  know  what  hole  and  Swatty  told 
him.  He  told  him  we  had  a  cave  up  the  creek  and 
182 


WASTED  EFFORT 

that  it  looked  like  the  old  mare  had  walked  on  top 
of  the  cave  and  fell  through.  He  asked  if  she  was 
hurt  and  we  said  she  was  n't,  we  guessed,  but  she 
would  n't  come  out  for  us.  He  got  his  hat. 

"Come  on,"  he  said;  "I'll  see  about  it." 

Well,  he  took  us  out  the  back  way  to  the  stable 
and  yelled  for  Jake,  and  Jake  came. 

"Jake,"fhe  said,  "these  boys  have  found'Jenny, 
and  she's  fallen  into  a  hole  and  they  can't  get  her 
out." 

"All  right,"  Jake  said;  "I'll  go  with  them." 

You  could  have  knocked  me  over  with  a  feather. 
We  had  n't  thought  of  that.  The  doctor  started  to 
go  back  to  the  house.  Then  he  stopped. 

"Just  wait  a  minute,"  he  said.  "I  think  I'll  go 
with  you.  If  the  mare  is  hurt,  I  may  be  able  to  attend 
to  her  right  there." 

When  the  doctor  came  out  with  his  medicine  case 
we  started,  and  me  and  Swatty  pretended  to  be 
eager  to  hurry  up.  Bony  sort  of  held  back  behind. 
The  doctor  talked  to  us  a  lot.  He  was  sort  of  happy 
and  good-natured  about  it,  like  fat  men  are,  and 
joked  some  how  far  it  was.  We  took  him  out  the 
Graveyard  Road  and  down  into  the  creek  bottom 
and  showed  him  the  mouth  of  our  cave  up  the  bank. 

"Well,  well,"  he  said.  "This  is  mountain  climbing 
indeed!  If  I  had  much  of  this  to  do  I 'd  be  a  smaller 
and  a  better  man." 

He  made  me  carry  his  medicine  case  so  he  could 
use  both  hands,  and  I  went  first.  Then  Jake  came 
183 


S  WATTY 

and  then  the  doctor,  and  then  Swatty  and  then 
Bony.  When  we  got  to  the  door  of  the  cave  I  stopped 
and  Jake  looked  in. 

"Where's  the  mare?"  he  said.  "I  don't  see  no 
mare." 

He  turned  to  look  back  and  the  doctor  was  just 
behind  him,  panting  pretty  hard. 

"What?"  the  doctor  asked,  and  he  stepped  up. 
I  started  to  say  it  was  the  back  cave  the  mare  was 
in,  but  just  then  the  doctor  bumped  against  me  and 
went  sort  of  down  on  his  knees.  It  was  as  dark  as 
pitch.  Swatty  had  slammed  the  door  shut  against 
the  doctor  and  jolted  him  into  the  cave,  and  me  and 
Jake  with  him.  I  heard  Swatty  fastening  the  cave 
door,  and  there  we  were  —  me  and  the  doctor  and 
Jake.  We  were  locked  in  the  cave. 

I  was  the  first  one  to  know  what  Swatty  had  done, 
and  I  pounded  on  the  door  and  hollered  for  them 
to  let  us  out,  but  they  did  n't  do  it.  Jake  was  just 
standing  and  saying: 

"I'll  be  durned!  I'll  be  durned!" 

"What  does  this  mean?"  Doctor  Miller  asked. 

I  did  n't  know  what  to  say,  I  was  so  scared.  But  I 
did  n't  have  to  say  anything.  Jake  said  it. 

"I  know  mighty  well  what  this  means,  Doc,"  he 
said.  "This  is  some  of  Tom  Foley's  work,  this  is. 
He's  been  trying  to  get  me  out  of  the  foremanship 
of  Fearless  Hose  No.  2  for  the  last  three  years,  and 
we've  got  the  annual  election  to-night.  He  knows 
mighty  well  if  I  ain't  there  to-night  he  can  put  it 
184 


WASTED  EFFORT 

over  on  me,  and  this  is  his  game.  I  'm  mighty  sorry 
you  got  drug  into  it,  Doc;  but  I'll  make  him  suffer 
for  this  when  I  get  out!" 

He  struck  a  match  and  saw  the  food  I  had  brought. 
He  kept  striking  more  matches  and  looking  around 
the  cave. 

"Yes,  by  Susan!"  he  said.  "Look  at  the  food. 
This  is  Foley's  work  —  the  great  big  mush !  He 
thinks  this  is  a  good  joke.  I'll  show  him!  Son,"  he 
said  to  me,  "did  Foley  talk  to  you?" 

"No,  sir,"  I  said. 

"I  knew  it!"  Jake  said.  "It's  that  Swatty  kid. 
He's  a  terror,  he  is.  Well,  son,  don't  you  mind;  we'll 
mighty  soon  get  out  of  here." 

I  felt  a  whole  lot  better.  But  I  guess  the  doctor 
did  n't. 

"Get  out?  How '11  we  get  out? "Jhe  wanted  to 
know.  "If  your  friend  Foley  fixed  this  up,  you  may 
be  sure  he  did  not  expect  you  to  get  out  to-night. 
And  I've  got  to  get  out.  I've  got  two  important 
cases,  and  I  must  get  out." 

"Oh,  we'll  get  out,  Doc,"  said  Jake.  And  he  lit 
another  match. 

He  looked  at  the  door  and  tried  it,  butting  into 
it  with  his  shoulder.  But  we  had  fixed  it  dandy.  It 
did  n't  give  at  all.  It  was  like  butting  a  rock.  He 
tried  it  awhile,  and  then  he  said,  but  not  so  gay: 

"Well,  we'll  have  to  dig  out." 

"Then,  Jake,  let  us  dig,"  said  the  doctor.  And 
they  dug.  I  dug  too,  but  mostly  I  only  pretended  to 
185 


SWATTY 

dig.  It  was  dark  in  there  and  you  could  n't  see,  and 
clay  is  n't  anything  to  dig  with  your  fingers.  Jake 
and  the  doctor  had  pocket  knives,  but  you  know 
how  much  you  can  dig  with  a  pocket  knife.  But 
they  had  the  right  idea.  They  did  n't  try  to  dig 
through  the  tunnel,  like  me  and  Swatty  thought 
they  would.  They  dug  around  the  door. 

Well,  when  Swatty  and  Bony  had  locked  us  in 
they  went  and  sat  on  the  bank  across  the  creek  to 
see  what  would  happen.  Nothing  happened.  Then 
Swatty  got  to  thinking.  He  didn't  worry  about 
Jake,  because  Jake  was  a  hired  man  and  nobody 
ever  knew  when  he  would  get  home;  but  he  knew 
my  aunt  would  want  to  know  where  I  was.  That 
made  him  think  of  Mrs.  Miller,  and  she  would  want 
to  know  where  the  doctor  was.  He  was  mighty  wor- 
ried. We  had  thought  that  maybe  we  could  keep 
the  doctor  in  the  cave  a  couple  of  weeks  until  every- 
thing was  all  right,  but  he  knew  right  away  that  me 
and  Jake  and  the  doctor  could  n't  live  on  the  food 
I  had  put  in  the  cave,  and  he  knew  my  aunt  would 
start  out  to  find  where  I  was,  and  Mrs.  Miller  to 
find  out  where  Doctor  Miller  was.  He  was  mighty 
worried,  and  he  did  n't  know  what  to  do.  So  he 
did  n't  do  anything. 

Tt  turned  out  like  he  thought  it  would.  My  aunt 
was  mad  when  I  did  not  come  home  to  dinner,  and 
madder  when  I  did  n't  come  home  to  supper,  but 
when  I  did  n't  come  home  at  all  she  was  worried 
almost  crazy  and  she  got  my  father  to  go  hunt  for 
186 


WASTED  EFFORT 

me.  He  hunted  awhile,  and  then  he  got  some  other 
men  to  hunt  for  me,  because  he  had  to  go  home. 

They  hunted  all  night.  Along  toward  morning  the 
hunters  who  were  hunting  for  me  ran  into  the  hunt- 
ers who  were  hunting  for  Doctor  Miller.  They  had 
Swatty  with  them,  because  Mrs.  Miller  had  said 
Swatty  had  come  to  the  house  and  the  doctor  had 
gone  away  with  him.  They  were  trying  to  make 
Swatty  tell  where  the  doctor  went,  but  he  would  n't. 
He  just  let  on  like  he  was  crying  and  said  he  did  n't 
know. 

Well,  the  hunters  who  were  hunting  for  Doctor 
Miller  had  just  started  out,  because  Mrs.  Miller 
had  n't  got  worried  until  toward  morning,  because 
she  thought  he  was  attending  to  his  business.  But 
toward  morning  my  father  and  Bony's  father  came 
to  his  house,  and  it  was  at  their  houses  Mrs.  Miller 
thought  Doctor  Miller  was.  So  she  was  frightened 
and  got  some  men  to  hunt  him. 

I  guess  I  went  to  sleep  about  ten  or  eleven  o'clock 
that  night  while  Jake  and  Doctor  Miller  were  still 
digging.  I  woke  up  all  of  a  sudden  and  there  I  was 
in  the  cave,  and  the  door  open  and  men  coming  in 
and  Doctor  Miller  brushing  off  his  hands.  Him  and 
Jake  had  almost  dug  a  way  out,  but  the  hunters  had 
got  Swatty  to  tell  where  we  were.  So  about  the  first 
thing  I  heard  was  a  man  saying: 

"Where's  that  Swatty?  Don't  let  him  get 
away!" 

But  he  had  got.  We  did  n't  see  him  for  about  a 
187 


SWATTY 

week.  He  went  over  into  Illinois  and  got  a  job  with 
a  farmer. 

Well,  all  the  way  home  Jake  kept  talking  about 
Tom  Foley  and  what  he  would  do  to  him,  and  when 
the  hunters  heard  it  they  laughed  like  sixty  and 
said  it  was  the  best  joke  they  ever  heard.  They  said 
they  would  have  to  hand  it  to  Foley  —  he  was  a 
dandy.  So  I  guess  they  told  Foley  so.  I  guess  he  lis- 
tened to  them  and  did  n't  let  on,  only  said  he  did  n't 
do  it,  and  of  course  they  did  n't  believe  him,  because 
he  had  been  elected  foreman  of  Fearless  Hose  No.  2, 
like  Jake  had  said  he  would  be.  So  Foley  got  sort  of 
proud  of  it  and  let  them  think.  So  me  and  Bony  and 
Swatty  never  got  anything,  except  Swatty  got  licked 
for  being  away  for  a  week,  and  that  was  all  right ;  it 
was  worth  it  for  the  fun  we  had. 

But  the  worst  of  it  was  that  all  of  it  was  n't  any 
use.  We  had  gone  to  all  the  work  for  nothing.  We 
had  caved  up  the  wrong  doctor.  We  ought  to  have 
caved  up  Doctor  Wilmeyer  and  Doctor  Brown.  Be- 
cause while  we  had  Doctor  Miller  caved  up,  and 
thought  we  had  everything  fine  and  dandy,  it  was 
Doctor  Wilmeyer  and  Doctor  Brown  who  were  the 
ones  all  the  time.  When  we  got  home  from  the  cave 
with  the  hunters  there  was  a  new  baby  at  our  house 
and  one  at  Bony's  house,  and  they  had  brought 
them.  And  that  was  n't  the  worst  —  they  were  both 
girls.  So  we  had  done  worse  than  nothing,  because 
if  we  had  left  Doctor  Miller  alone  he  might,  anyway, 
have  brought  boys. 


IX 

THE  MURDERERS 

WELL,  when  we  came  to  find  out  about  it  the  new 
babies  at  my  and  Bony's  houses  were  n't  near  as 
hard  to  bear  as  we  had  thought  they  would  be.  One 
reason  was  because  they  came  at  vacation  time, 
when  we  did  n't  have  to  go  to  school,  and  the  other 
was  that  they  didn't  make  us  take  them  out  in 
baby  carriages  like  we  was  afraid  they  would.  One 
thing  was  that  they  was  too  fresh  yet,  and  the  other 
was  that  they  would  n't  trust  them  to  such  young 
hoodlums  anyway. 

At  our  house  Fan  spent  most  of  her  time  loving 
the  new  kid,  and  Lucy  and  Mamie  Little  did  n't  do 
much  but  hang  around  and  coax  to  hold  the  baby  a 
minute,  and  Toady  Williams  just  hung  around  and 
waited  for  Mamie  Little  to  come  out  and  play.  I 
guessed  that  I  would  never  have  anything  to  do 
with  Mamie  Little  again,  but  that  when  I  got  a  new 
girl  it  would  be  a  different  kind,  like  Scratch-Cat. 
I  wished  I  had  n't  got  religion,  or  anything  that  I  'd 
got  because  of  Mamie  Little. 

A  lot  of  us  got  religion  at  once,  because  that's 
how  you  usually  get  it.  It  makes  it  easier  and  you 
don't  feel  so  foolish  going  up  front. 

Well,  they  had  this  revival  at  our  church  the 

.189 


SWATTY 

winter  before  the  vacation  I  'm  telling  about.  When 
they  had  it  I  was  having  Mamie  Little  for  my  secret 
girl  and  she  went  up  in  front,  so  I  got  religion  and 
went  up  in  front  too.  But  you  see  I  'd  ought  to  have 
waited,  because  it  made  me  feel  a  lot  worse  about 
murdering  a  man.  Or  maybe  it  did  n't.  I  guess 
Swatty  felt  almost  as  bad  as  I  did.  We  both  felt 
awful  bad.  Swatty  did  n't  go  to  our  church,  he  went 
to  the  German  Lutheran  church,  and  nobody  in 
that  church  ever  got  religion,  they  just  had  it.  At 
our  church  we  did  n't  have  it  until  we  got  it,  and 
mostly  we  got  it  when  there  was  a  revival  meeting, 
and  that  was  when  I  got  it. 

So,  I  guess  it  was  a  lot  worse  for  me  when  the 
thing  happened  that  I  'm  going  to  tell  you,  because 
I  had  religion  and  Swatty  had  n't. 

Well,  the  way  it  happened  was  this  way:  I'm 
awfully  croupy.  I  don't  know  anybody  that's  as 
croupy  as  I  am,  so  they  rub  hot  goose  grease  on  me 
when  I  get  to  honking  and  then  make  me  swallow 
a  lot  out  of  a  spoon,  and  that  was  all  right  when  I 
was  little  enough  so  they  could  hold  my  nose,  but 
after  I  got  big  Mother  said  she  would  n't  struggle 
with  me  another  time,  and  she  changed  and  gave 
me  a  dime  a  spoonful.  So  I  took  the  old  stuff  because 
if  I  had  n't  took  it  Father  would  have  licked  me,  and 
I  'd  have  had  to  take  it  anyway.  So  I  got  a  dime  a 
spoonful.  So  I  bought  a  target  rifle  with  the  money, 
when  I  had  enough,  and  then  the  rifle  got  broke  and 
I  could  n't  get  it  fixed  until  my  mother  gave  me 
190 


THE  MURDERERS 

three  dollars  because  I  had  been  such  a  good  boy 
when  the  new  baby  came. 

So  then  all  the  kids  were  coming  over  to  my  yard 
to  shoot  all  the  time  —  Swatty  and  Bony  and  the 
whole  lot  of  them  —  and  we  shot  at  tin  cans  and 
things  against  the  barn,  but  we  were  n't  any  of  us 
very  good  shooters.  I  guess  Swatty  was  the  best. 
Or  maybe  I  was  about  as  good  as  he  was. 

That  was  all  right,  and  I  guess  nobody  cared  any- 
thing, only  Mother  was  always  putting  her  head 
out  of  the  window  and  saying,  "Boys,  do  be  careful 
with  that  gun!"  So  one  day  Swatty  come  over,  like 
he  always  does,  and  he  says,  "Say!  we  can't  shoot 
the  rifle  any  more!"  And  I  says,  "Why  can't  we?" 
And  Swatty  says,  "They  made  a  law  that  we  can't." 
And  I  says,  "Who  made  a  law  that  we  can't?"  And 
Swatty  says,  "The  city  council  made  a  law  that 
nobody  can  shoot  inside  the  city  limits." 

So  I  guessed  they  had,  because  that  winter  they 
had  made  a  law  we  could  n't  slide  down  Third  Street 
hill,  and  if  they  made  a  law  like  that  they  might 
make  almost  any  kind  of  a  law.  So  Swatty  says,  "  If 
we  want  to  shoot  we've  got  to  go  outside  the  city 
limits."  And  I  said  —  I  don't  know  what  I  said  but 
I  guess  I  said  that  was  so. 

So,  anyway,  we  did  n't  shoot  in  my  yard  any 
more,  and  that  was  n't  our  fault  but  the  fault  of 
the  city  council.  So  that  was  one  of  the  things  we 
thought  of  after  we  killed  the  man ;  but  it  did  n't 
seem  to  make  us  feel  much  better,  like  you  'd  think 
191 


SWATTY 

it  would.  I  guess  there  was  n't  anything  could  make 
us  feel  better.  Nobody  wants  to  be  hanged  unless 
he  has  to  be,  I  guess. 

Well,  it  was  vacation  time,  anyway,  and  we  did  n't 
want  to  shoot  all  the  time  because  part  of  the  time 
we  wanted  to  do  something  else.  Only  when  we 
wanted  to  go  rowing  on  the  river  we  took  the  rifle 
along  anyway,  because  sometimes  we  rowed  up 
beyond  the  city  limits  and  then  it  was  all  right  to 
shoot  if  we  wanted  to. 

So  one  day  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  we  went  up 
the  river  in  a  skiff.  We  always  hired  a  skiff  from  old 
Higgins  because  it  was  ten  cents  an  hour  or  three 
hours  for  a  quarter  from  him,  and  Rogers  charged 
ten  cents  straight.  So  when  we  got  into  the  skiff  and 
Higgins  gave  us  the  oars  he  said,  "Well,  boys,  have 
a  good  time,  but  don't  shoot  anybody  with  that 
cannon."  And  we  said,  all  right,  we  would  n't.  We 
took  turns  rowing,  like  we  always  did,  and  pretty 
soon  we  got  to  the  Slough,  and  we  rowed  in  and  shot 
at  turtles  awhile,  and  then  Bony  said,  "Gee!  the 
mosquitoes  are  eating  me  up,"  and  they  were  eating 
all  of  us  up,  so  we  floated  out  onto  the  river  and  just 
floated.  We  threw  the  bailing  can  over  and  shot  at 
it  until  it  went  down,  and  just  about  then  we  were 
going  past  the  old  shanty  boat,  and  we  began  to 
shoot  at  that. 

It  was  up  on  the  mud  and  partly  sunk  into  it  and 
the  hull  was  so  rotten  you  could  kick  a  hole  in  it, 
and  it  was  n't  anybody's  anyway.  Everybody  had 
192 


THE  MURDERERS 

thrown  stones  at  the  windows  in  the  side  and  broken 
them  and  nobody  cared,  I  guess;  but  nobody  had 
broken  all  the  windows  in  the  end  toward  the  river, 
because  that  end  was  toward  the  river,  so  we  shot 
at  the  windows.  At  first  we  could  n't  hit  them  and 
we  drifted  below,  but  we  rowed  back  again  and  in 
closer  and  then  we  all  hit  them.  We  hit  them  a  lot 
of  times,  until  they  were  all  smashed  out,  and  we 
began  to  say  who  had  hit  the  most  times,  and  Swatty 
said,  "Let's  go  ashore  and  see  who  is  the  best  shot. 
I  bet  I  am."  So  we  went. 

So  we  shot  at  cans  and  things,  and  Swatty  was 
the  best  shot,  and  then  nobody  said  anything  but 
we  just  thought  we'd  go  on  the  shanty  boat  for  fun. 
We  climbed  up  on  the  little  front  deck,  and  Bony 
was  first,  and  Swatty  was  next,  and  then  I  come.  So 
Bony  pushed  the  door  open  and  looked  in,  and  he 
stood  there  looking  in  and  did  n't  move,  and  then, 
all  at  once  he  made  a  sound  —  well,  I  don't  know 
what  kind  of  sound  it  was.  It  was  a  frightened  sound. 
I  guess  it  was  like  the  sound  a  rabbit  makes  when 
you  step  on  it  by  mistake.  And  then  he  turned,  and 
his  face  was  so  scary  it  frightened  me  and  Swatty 
and  we  turned  and  jumped  off  the  front  deck  onto 
the  railroad  bank;  but  Bony  jumped  sideways  off 
the  deck  and  landed  on  the  cracked  crust  that  was 
over  the  mud  the  shanty  boat  was  stuck  in.  He  went 
right  through  the  crust  and  over  his  knees  in  the 
mud,  but  me  and  Swatty  was  so  scared  we  started 
to  run  down  the  railroad  track  as  fast  as  we  could. 


SWATTY 

Pretty  soon  we  stopped,  because  the  sand  between 
the  ties  was  full  of  sandburs,  and  then  we  did  n't 
know  what  we  were  running  for,  so  we  looked  back. 
Bony  was  sort  of  swimming  on  top  of  the  mud  crust 
and  he  was  crying  as  hard  as  he  could  cry,  but  not 
loud.  He  was  trying  to  get  away  from  the  shanty 
boat  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  every  time  he  got  a 
foot  out  of  the  mud  and  tried  to  step  he  broke 
through  the  crust  again,  so  he  sort  of  laid  on  the 
crust  and  bellied  along.  He  looked  like  an  alligator 
swimming  in  the  mud,  and  he  was  crying  like  an 
alligator,  too.  Only  I  guess  it  is  crocodiles  that  cry. 
Bony  was  trying  to  get  to  the  skiff,  and  Swatty  knew 
that  if  Bony  got  there  before  we  did  he  would  get  in 
the  skiff  and  go  home  and  leave  us.  So  we  picked  the 
sandburs  out  of  our  feet  and  tried  to  hurry,  but 
Bony  got  to  the  skiff  and  got  in  and  pushed  off. 

We  ran  and  hollered,  but  he  did  n't  stop.  He  was 
so  frightened  that  the  oars  jumped  out  from  between 
the  pins  almost  every  time  he  pulled  on  them,  and 
he  was  crying  hard;  but  he  rowed  the  boat  pretty 
fast  because  he  was  working  his  arms  so  hard.  Swatty 
and  me  hollered  at  him  and  told  him  what  we  would 
do  to  him  if  he  did  n't  come  back,  but  it  did  n't  do 
any  good.  He  was  too  scared.  All  he  wanted  to  do 
was  to  get  away. 

Well,  we  tried  to  throw  stones  at  him,  to  bring 
him  back,  but  we  could  n't  throw  that  far  and  we 
just  stood  and  watched  him  row  down-river  as  hard 
as  he  could. 

194 


THE  MURDERERS 

"Say,  what  do  you  think  he  saw  in  there? "  Swatty 
said  after  while. 

"I  don't  know  what  he  saw,"  I  said.  "What  do 
you  think  he  saw?" 

!    "I  don't  know  what  he  saw,  but  I 'm  going  to  see 
what  he  saw,"  Swatty  said. 

Swatty  was  always  like  that.  If  anybody  saw  any- 
thing he  wanted  to  see  it  too. 

"I  ain't  afraid  to  see  it,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  ain't  afraid  if  you  ain't  afraid,"  I  said. 

So  we  climbed  up  on  the  deck  of  the  shanty  house 
again.  We  climbed  up  careful  and  went  to  the  door 
and  peeked  in. 

As  soon  as  I  had  the  first  peek  I  turned,  and 
jumped  off  the  deck  and  started  to  run,  but  Swatty 
just  stood  and  looked.  I  hollered  at  him.  I  guess  I 
was  crying,  too. 

"Swatty!  Swatty,  come  on!  Oh,  Swatty,  come  on, 
Swatty!"  I  hollered. 

He  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  me  and  then 
he  looked  back  into  the  shanty  boat.  All  he  said  to 
me  was,  "Shut  up!" 

I  guess  you  know  what  we  saw  when  we  looked 
into  the  shanty  boat.  There  was  almost  a  whole 
page  about  it  in  the  paper  later  on.  He  —  the  man 
—  was  lying  there  on  the  floor  of  the  shanty  boat  in 
the  broken  bottles  and  straw  and  the  dry  mud  that 
had  sifted  in  when  the  river  was  high.  He  was  lying 
on  his  face  with  his  feet  to  the  door  and  he  was  sort 
of  crumpled  up  with  one  hand  stretched  out.  He  was 

195 


SWATTY 

dead.  One  side  of  his  face  was  up  and  there  was 
blood  from  the  place  in  his  forehead  where  he  had 
been  shot.  It  was  on  the  floor. 

I  did  n't  dare  run  away  without  Swatty,  because 
I  guess  I  was  as  scared  as  Bony  had  been,  and  I 
did  n't  dare  go  back  to  the  shanty  boat,  so  I  just 
stood,  and  all  at  once  I  began  to  shake  all  over,  the 
same  as  a  wet  kitten  shakes  in  cold  weather.  I 
could  n't  help  shaking.  I  felt  pretty  sick.  But  most 
of  all  I  was  scared. 

I  thought  Swatty  was  going  to  stand  there  for- 
ever, looking  into  the  shanty  boat,  but  pretty  soon 
he  went  inside,  and  that  shows  he's  as  brave  as  he 
always  brags  he  is.  I  would  n't  have  gone  in  for  a 
million  billion  quadrillion  dollars.  In  a  minute  he 
come  out  and  he  dropped  off  the  end  of  the  deck 
and  sort  of  crouched  low.  He  kept  crouched  low  as 
he  come  up  the  railroad  bank,  and  he  crouched  low 
when  he  dodged  down  the  other  side,  so  I  crouched 
low,  too,  and  went  down  the  other  side  of  the  rail- 
road bank.  And  when  Swatty  come  up  to  me  I  saw 
he  was  scared,  too,  but  he  was  n't  scared  the  way 
I  was.  I  was  just  scared  because  I  'd  seen  a  dead  man, 
but  Swatty  was  frightened. 

There  was  a  lot  of  tall  ragweed  and  a  pile  of  rail- 
road^ties  in  the  bottom  of  the  cut  along  side  the 
railroad  track,  and  Swatty  went  right  in  close  to  the 
pile  of  ties  where  the  ragweed  hid  everything  and 
he  sat  down  there.  He  looked  pretty  frightened. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "we  killed  him."' 
196 


THE  MURDERERS 

That  was  the  first  I'd  thought  that  we'd  killed 
the  dead  man ;  but  the  minute  Swatty  said  it  I  knew 
we  had  killed  him  by  shooting  through  the  windows 
of  the  shanty  boat.  I  could  n't  shake  any  more  than 

I  had  been  shaking  so  I  just  kept  on  shaking  like  I 
had  been,  but  I  got  sicker  at  my  stomach.  When  I 
was  through  being  sick  Swatty  he  got  mad. 

"Stop  shaking  like  that!"  he  said.  "We've  gone 
and  done  it  and  we '  ve  got  to  think  what  we  're  going 
to  do  about  it.  Stop  shaking  and  help  me  think." 

"I  c-c-c-can't  stop  sh-sh-sh-shaking ! "  I  said.  "I 
w.w.w.WOuld  if  I  c-c-c-c-could,  w-w-w-would  n't  I?" 

"  Well,  you've  got  to  stop  shaking,"  Swatty  said. 

II  If  you  go  shaking  all  around  town  like  that  every- 
body will  know  we  did  it.  If  you  don't  stop  shaking 
I'll  lick  you!" 

I  began  to  cry.  I  did  n't  cry  because  Swatty  said 
he  'd  lick  me  but  because  I  just  had  to  cry.  So  Swatty 
tried  to  make  me  stop  shivering.  He  took  the  back- 
bone of  my  neck  in  his  thumb  and  fingers  and 
pinched  it  hard,  because  you  can  stop  hiccoughs 
that  way;  but  it  didn't  do  any  good.  So  he  got 
madder. 

"What  are  you  shaking  for,  anyway?"  he  asked. 
"I  ain't  shaking." 

"W-well,  y-y-you  h-h-have  n't  got  r-r-religion," 
I  said.  "It's  w-w-worse  for  anybody  that's  g-g-g-got 
r-r-religion  to  kill  anybody." 

Well,  he  hauled  off  and  hit  me.  He  hit  me  in  the 
jaw,  and  then  he  said  what  I  would  n't  let  anybody 
197 


SWATTY 

say  about  my  getting  religion,  and  I  fought  him. 
Then  we  stopped  fighting  and  I  was  still  shaking, 
but  not  so  bad. 

"Yah!  Little  sissy  boy  got  religion!"  he  said. 
"Little  sissy  boy  went  and  got  religion  'cause  he's 
stuck  on  Mamie  Little!" 

Well,  that  did  make  me  mad !  I  lit  into  him,  and 
we  had  another  good  fight,  and  pretty  soon  he  said, 
"'Nuff!"  and  I  stopped.  So  I  started  to  tell  him 
what  I  'd  do  to  him  if  he  ever  said  that  again.  I  was 
crying,  I  guess. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said;  " I  just  said  it  on  pur- 
pose. I  just  said  it  to  make  you  fight.  You  ain't 
shaking  now."  And  I  was  n't.  I  'd  got  so  mad  I  for- 
got to  shake.  So,  as  Swatty  had  just  said  what  he 
said  on  purpose,  I  did  n't  care.  So  I  stopped  crying. 

"Now  you've  got  some  sense,"  Swatty  said. 
"Don't  you  get  that  way  again.  We  don't  want  to 
get  hung,  do  we?" 

I  had  n't  thought  of  that.  Of  course  they  would 
hang  us  if  they  found  out  we'd  killed  the  man  in 
the  shanty  boat,  and  it  made  us  pretty  sober.  I  guess 
I  began  to  cry  again. 

"Oh,  shut  up!"  Swatty  said.  "If  you're  going  to 
blubber  all  the  time,  and  not  try  to  help,  I  wish  I  'd 
killed  that  man  all  by  myself.  You  shut  up  and  try 
to  help  me  think  what  to  do,  or  I  '11  go  and  tell  every- 
body you  killed  him." 

"You  won't  do  it!"  I  said. 

"Yes,  I  will,"  he  said  back.  "And  I'll  prove  it  on 
198 


THE  MURDERERS 

you.  You  did  n't  look  at  that  man  and  I  did,  and 
I  know  what  kind  of  a  man  he  is." 

"What  kind  of  a  man  is  he?"  I  asked. 

"He's  a  tough  kind,"  Swatty  said.  "And  if  you 
don't  shut  up  your  bawling  I'll  say  you  and  him 
got  into  an  argument  about  religion,  and  you  shot 
him  because  he  would  n't  come  and  join  in  with  you 
and  get  it.  And  folks  will  believe  that,  because  you  Ve 
just  got  it,  and  there  ain't  any  other  reason  why 
any  of  us  should  kill  him.  I  have  n't  got  religion, 
have  I?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  for  I  saw  Swatty  could  do  like  he 
said,  "what  are  we  going  to  do,  anyway?" 

"We've  got  to  keep  from  getting  arrested  and 
put  into  jail  and  hung,"  Swatty  said.  "  I  don't  know 
how,  but  we've  got  to.  We've  got  to  be  careful,  and 
not  let  anybody  know  we  shot  that  man.  If  they 
find  it  out  they'll  hang  us  sure." 

"We  did  n't  mean  to  shoot  him,"  I  said.  "We  had 
a  right  to  shoot  outside  the  city  limits." 

"We  did  n't  have  a  right  to  shoot  anybody,"  said 
Swatty.  "We  had  a  right  to  see  if  there  was  anybody 
in  the  shanty  boat  before  we  shot  at  it.  We'll  all 
three  be  hung  if  they  find  out  we  did  it." 

Well,  I  had  an  idea  just  then,  but  I  did  n't  say 
it  to  Swatty.  I  did  n't  really  think  it,  it  just  come. 
I  knew  as  soon  as  I  thought  it  that  I  would  n't  be 
so  mean,  and  I  knew  Swatty  would  n't  either.  But 
it  would  have  been  easy  enough  for  me  and  Swatty 
to  say  Bony  did  it.  We  was  two  to  one.  Maybe  I 
199 


SWATTY 

would  have  said  it  if  I  had  n't  got  religion.  But  it 
made  me  feel  better  for  a  while  to  think  that  I'd 
thought  it  and  had  n't  said  it.  So  the  next  thing  I 
thought  was  that  it  would  be  mighty  noble  and  true 
and  religious  if  I'd  go  to  the  mayor  or  somebody 
and  just  say:  "I  killed  a  man  up  there  at  the  old 
shanty  boat  on  the  river,  but  nobody  is  to  blame 
but  me.  Swatty  ain't  and  Bony  ain't,  so  go  ahead 
and  hang  me.  I  did  it,  and  it  was  my  target  rifle." 
But  I  thought  that  if  I  was  going  to  be  hung  I  'd  not 
feel  as  lonesome  if  Swatty  and  Bony  got  hung  too. 
Anyway,  Swatty  started  to  talk,  and  I  forgot  it. 

"If  Bony  had  n't  gone  off  with  the  skiff,"  he  said, 
"we'd  be  all  right.  We'd  get  in  the  skiff  and  row 
out  to  the  middle  of  the  river  and  lay  flat  in  it,  and 
nobody  would  see  us.  We  could  float  down  the  river 
as  far  as  we  wanted  to  and  hide  in  a  cane-brake  or 
somewhere.  Or  maybe,  we'd  row  up  the  Missouri 
and  hide  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  If  they  got  after 
us  we  could  turn  bandits  or  something." 

"You  could,"  I  said,  "but  I  could  n't." 

"I  forgot  you'd  got  religion,"  he  said.  "You'd 
have  to  start  a  ranch.  But  we  can't  do  that,  because 
Bony  went  off  with  the  skiff." 

What  we  decided  was  that  nobody  would  be  apt 
to  find  the  dead  man  that  day.  Maybe  they  'd  never 
find  him.  Unless  somebody  like  us  happened  to  go 
into  the  old  shanty  boat  he  might  never  get  found, 
and  then,  the  next  spring,  when  the  Mississippi  had 
her  spring  flood,  or  that  same  fall,  if  the  water  got 
200 


THE  MURDERERS 

high  enough,  we  could  come  up  and  float~the  old 
shanty  boat  out  of  the  mud  and  take  her  out  in  the 
river  and  sink  her.  We  talked  over  a  lot  of  things, 
and  the  more  we  talked  the  more  it  did  n't  seem  so 
bad.  It  looked  as  if  we  had  a  chance  not  to  get  hung, 
after  all. 

I  wanted  to  cut  across  the  cornfield  to  the  hill 
and  go  home  that  way,  so  that  if  anybody  saw  us 
they  'd  think  we  had  been  up  in  the  woods  and  not 
near  the  shanty  boat,  but  Swatty  said  that  would  n't 
do  because  our  footprints  would  show  in  the  corn- 
field, and  detectives  would  trace  us  by  them  if  they 
started  out  to  find  who  murdered  the  man.  He  said 
it  would  be  more  innocent  to  go  right  down  the  rail- 
road track,  and  if  anybody  asked  us  anything  to  say 
we  had  n't  been  as  far  up  as  the  shanty  boat,  and 
that  Bony  had  got  a  stomach  ache  or  something  and 
gone  home  first  with  the  boat.  So  we  did  that.  We 
walked  down  the  track.  We  talked  about  the  mur- 
der all  the  time,  and  the  more  we  talked  the  surer 
we  were  nobody  would  think  we  did  it. 

Well,  we  got  to  my  gate  all  right,  and  Swatty  and 
me  crossed  our  hearts  we  would  n't  say  anything 
about  killing  the  man,  and  I  tried  to  think  how  I  'd 
act  so  nobody  at  home  would  think  anything  differ- 
ent than  they  always  did,  and  I  went  into  the  house. 
It  was  pretty  late.  They  were  eating  supper.  So  I 
went  in  and  sat  down,  and  Father  scolded  me  a  little 
for  being  late,  like  he  does  nearly  every  day,  and 
then  he  said  something  else. 
201 


r  SWATTY 

"Son,"  he  said,  "after  supper  you'll  get  that 
target  rifle  of  yours  and  turn  it  over  to  me." 

Well,  I  almost  jumped  out  of  my  skin,  I  was  so 
scared. 

"Now,  you  need  n't  begin  any  of  that,"  he  said. 
"I  mean  what  I  say.  Do  you  know  who  was  shot 
to-day?" 

?   I  was  so  scared  I  could  n't  swallow  my  piece  of 
meat.  I  choked  on  it. 

"No,  sir!"  I  said,  pretty  weakly. 

"Well,  Benny  Judge  shot  his  little  sister,"  said 
my  father.  "Only  by  the  greatest  luck  she  was  n't 
killed.  As  it  is  she  has  a  bullet  in  her  arm.  Now, 
mind!  I  want  that  rifle." 

Well,  I  was  glad  and  I  was  scared  stiff,  too. 

I  had  left  the  target  rifle  on  the  rocks  up  by  the 
shanty  boat.  I  began  to  shake  again  because  I  knew 
somebody  would  find  the  target  rifle  and  it  had  my 
initials  on  it,  and  when  they  found  the  dead  man 
they  would  know  I  killed  him.  I  guess  my  teeth 
chattered.  Anyway  I  could  n't  think  of  anything  at 
all.  I  just  wished  I  was  dead,  because  after  supper 
Father  would  want  the  rifle,  and  I  did  n't  have  it, 
and  some  one  would  find  it  and  I  would  be  hung. 
is*  Then  Mother  saw  me  shake,  and  she  said, ' '  What 's 
the  matter?  Are  you  cold?" 

"Y-y-yes'm,"  I  said.  Well,  it  was  n't  a  lie.  I 
was  sort  of  cold. 

"Father,  the  poor  child  is  sick,"  Mother  said 
"See  him  chatter  his  teeth." 
202 


THE  MURDERERS 

So  Father  looked  at  me.  "Malaria,"  he  said.  So 
he  asked  me  if  I  had  been  up  to  the  Slough,  because 
he  had  been  reading  in  a  magazine  about  Slough  mos- 
quitoes biting  you  and  giving  you  malaria.  I  did  n't 
know  what  to  say.  It  did  n't  look  good  to  say  I  had 
been  up  there  so  near  the  old  shanty  boat,  and  I 
did  n't  like  to  lie  about  it,  because  I  was  on  proba- 
tion for  getting  religion.  So  I  did  n't  say  anything. 
I  just  shivered  and  chattered  my  teeth. 

"Huh!"  my  father  said.  "I  knew  well  enough 
something  was  the  matter  with  that  boy  when  he 
got  religion.  He 's  had  this  malaria  spell  coming  on. 
Put  him  to  bed  and  give  him  a  big  dose  of  quinine." 
And  then  he  said  to  me,  "Just  let  me  catch  you  up 
near  that  Slough  again,  understand?  Get  to  bed,  and 
quick!  This  family  is  just  one  thing  after  another!" 
[  I  got  to  bed  pretty  quick  and  Mother  gave  me 
one  of  the  big  capsules.  She  heated  the  scorched 
blanket  at  the  kitchen  stove  and  wrapped  me  up  in 
it  and  put  all  the  bed  covers  she  could  find  on  top  of 
me.  I  started  to  sweat  right  away.  So  she  said,  "  If 
you  want  anything  I  '11  leave  the  door  open  and  you 
can  call  me,"  and  she  went  down  again.  She  told 
Father  she  guessed  I  was  pretty  sick  because  I 
looked  like  it,  and  all  he  said  was,  "Huh!  boys!" 
And  I  guessed  he  was  right,  and  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  live  a  better  and  truer  life,  but  I  kept  thinking 
of  the  man  we  had  killed.  I  never  sweat  so  much  in 
my  life. 

All  at  once  the  doorbell  rang  and  I  sat  right  up  in 
203 


SWATTY 

bed.  I  thought  the  police  had  come  for  me.  But  it 
was  n't  the  police;  it  was  something  just  as  bad  — 
almost.  It  was  old  Higgins,  the  skiff  man.  He  was 
talking  to  Father.  He  asked  him  if  I  had  got  home  all 
right.  So  Father  said  I  had,  and  I  was  sick  and  in 
bed.  Then  old  Higgins  said,  "Well,  I  don't  know 
what  to  make  of  it.  Nobody  brought  my  skiff  back. 
Your  boy  and  two  other  boys  hired  it  off  of  me,  and 
when  it  got  late  and  they  did  n't  bring  it  back  I  got 
frightened.  You  ask  him  where  he  left  my  skiff,  and 
if  they  lost  it  somebody 's  got  to  pay  me  back  for  it." 

Well,  I  was  mighty  scared.  I  guessed  Bony  had 
been  so  scared  he  had  upset  the  skiff  and  got 
drowned,  and  maybe  me  and  Swatty  would  get 
hung  for  that,  too,  though  we  did  throw  rocks  at 
Bony  to  try  to  get  him  to  come  back.  But,  anyway, 
me  and  Swatty  would  have  to  tell  why  Bony  had 
gone  off  in  the  skiff  alone,  and  then  they  would  know 
everything,  and  take  us  to  jail  and  hang  us.  I 
crawled  down  under  the  covers  and  pretended  to  be 
asleep,  but  it  was  n't  any  use,  because  Father  shook 
me  by  the  shoulder. 

"Now,  what?"  he  said,  cross.  "Here's  Higgins, 
the  skiff  man,  and  he  says  you  hired  a  skiff  and 
did  n't  bring  it  back.  What 's  the  meaning  of  all  this? 
And  are  you  putting  on  this  malaria  on  this  account? 
Explain,  young  man!" 

So  I  sat  up  and  I  said,  "Bony  took  it." 

"Come,  now,  explain!"  my  father  said. 

"Well,  we  was  up  the  river,"  I  said,  "and  me  and 
204 


THE  MURDERERS 

Swatty  and  Bony  got  out  of  the  skiff  and  —  and  we 
went  ashore.  So  —  so  —  then  me  and  Swatty,  we 
'  run  down  the  railroad  track  a  little  way  and  —  and 
when  we  looked  back  Bony  was  going  to  get  into  the 
skiff,  and  we  hollered  for  him  to  wait  for  us,  but  he 
would  n't.  He  got  into  it  and  rowed  away." 

"And  left  you  there?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

I  guess  he  did  n't  believe  it.  I  guess  he  thought  I 
was  just  trying  to  put  it  onto  Bony,  to  get  out  of  it 
myself.  He  forgot  I'd  got  religion,  I  guess.  So  he 
snapped  his  fingers  the  way  he  does  when  he 's  mad. 

"Get  out  of  that  bed  and  get  into  your  clothes  and 
make  haste  about  it!"  he  said,  and  I  said,  "Yes, 
sir!"  and  I  got  out  of  bed  right  away.  I  dressed 
quick. 

Mother  cried  because  it  was  wrong  to  make  a  sick 
boy  dress  and  go  over  to  Bony's  house  out  of  a  sweat 
and  I'd  catch  pneumonia;  but  I  had  to  go.  So  no- 
body said  anything  on  the  way  over,  except  Mr. 
Higgins  tried  to  talk  about  what  nice  weather  we 
were  having,  but  Father  would  n't  talk.  I  did  n't  like 
to  go,  because  —  well,  I  thought  all  Bony's  folks 
would  be  crying  because  he  was  drowned  when  we 
got  there;  but  of  course  if  you  think  about  it,  they 
would  n't  know.  So  when  we  got  to  their  house  they 
were  n't  crying,  but  Mr.  Booth  —  he  was  Bony's 
father  —  just  come  to  the  door  in  his  socks  and  said, 
"Well,  what  is  it  now?"  because  I  was  there,  and  he 
knew  something  was  the  matter  or  I  would  n't  be 
205 


SWATTY 

there  with  my  father.  So  Father  said,  "Did  your  son 
come  home?" 

"Yes,  he  come  home,"  Mr.  Booth  said,  "but  he 
ain't  well,  and  Ma  put  him  to  bed." 

I  was  glad  he  was  n't  drowned,  anyway.  Unless 
he'd  told  about  the  dead  man,  and  then  maybe  it 
would  n't  have  been  so  bad  if  he  had  been  drowned. 
So  Father  and  Mr.  Higgins  told  about  the  skiff,  and 
Mr.  Booth  sent  Bony's  ma  to  up  ask  Bony.  Pretty 
soon  she  came  down. 

"He's  pretty  sick,"  she  said.  "He's  complaining 
of  pains  in  his  arms  and  back  and  he 's  shaking  like 
he  had  the  ague;  but  I  hope  not,  because  his  temp'- 
ature  ain't  high.  I  guess  maybe  he  caught  a  chill. 
And  he  tied  the  skiff  under  the  creek  bridge.  He  left 
the  oars  in  it.  But  he  shall  never  again  play  with 
those  two  boys!  Never  again!  The  idea  of  them  run- 
ning off  and  leaving  my  poor  child  to  row  home  all 
alone!" 

Well,  that  was  a  lie,  but  I  was  n't  sore  at  Bony 
because  he's  a  coward  and  it  was  better  for  him  to 
tell  a  lie  like  that  than  to  blab  about  the  dead  man. 
Anyway,  a  fellow  has  to  tell  some  lies  until  he  gets 
religion.  After  that  it 's  different. 

"So  you've  been  lying  to  me  again!"  Father  said 
to  me,  but  I  did  n't  say  anything.  Saying  it  was  a 
lie  did  n't  make  it  a  lie,  and  all  he  could  do  was  lick 
me,  anyway.  But  he  did  n't  lick  me,  because  he 
thought  maybe  I  did  have  malaria  because  I  'd  got 
religion.  I  guess  that  was  what  he  thought.  So  Mr. 
206 


THE  MURDERERS 

Higgins  said,  "Never  mind,  I'll  get  the  skiff,  but  it 
will  be  about  a  dollar."  So  Father  paid  him  and  said 
he  would  take  it  out  of  my  allowance ;  but  he  hardly 
ever  paid  me  my  allowance,  anyway,  so  that  was  all 
right.  He  just  gave  me  an  allowance  so  he  could  say 
he  would  n't  pay  it  to  me,  I  guess.  Anyway,  we  went 
home. 

Well,  I  stayed  awake  for  hours,  thinking  about 
the  murder  and  what  we  had  better  do  about  it, 
but  maybe  it  was  only  a  few  minutes,  and  the  next 
morning  Swatty  came  over  before  I  was  out  of  bed. 
He  waited  for  me  in  the  side  yard  until  I  come  down. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "have  you  thought  of  anything 
to  do?" 

I  had  n't  thought  of  anything  except  maybe  I  'd 
better  go  to  the  minister  and  tell  him  all  about  it. 
So  Swatty  said  if  I  did  that  he  would  knock  my 
head  off,  and  I  knew  he  would,  if  he  could. 

"Well,  have  you  thought  of  anything,  then?"  I 
asked  him. 

So  he  told  me  he  had  sat  up  all  night  thinking 
about  it.  He  said  he  had  paced  the  floor  with  his 
hands  behind  him  and  his  brow  knotted  in  thought 
throughout  the  still  hours  of  the  night  until  cock- 
crow. I  thought  he  was  lying,  but  I  did  n't  tell  him 
so.  I  told  him  I  went  to  sleep,  and  I  told  him  about 
Bony  and  Mr.  Higgins.  I  told  him  about  the  rifle 
we  had  left  on  the  rocks.  He  said  that  complicated 
matters,  but  we  would  have  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

Then  he  showed  me  the  braided  horsehair  bridle 
207 


SWATTY 

he  had  in  his  pocket  that'his  uncle  had  brought  back 
from  Texas,  and  the  wooden  tobacco  pipe  he  had 
in  the  other  pocket.  He  said  we  might  have  gone  to 
Texas,  only  somebody  in  Texas  might  recognize 
the  bridle  and  know  it  was  the  one  his  uncle  had 
had,  and  then  know  him  and  connect  him  up  with 
the  murder  in  the  shanty  boat,  so  we  would  go  to 
Montana  or  maybe  New  Mexico.  He  was  n't  sure 
which  we  would  go  to,  but  that  it  would  be  better 
to  start  right  away. 

Well,  I  did  n't  like  to  leave  home  and  never  come 
back  until  I  was  a  big  man  with  a  beard,  and  the 
murder  was  forgotten  about,  but  it  seemed  the  only 
thing  to  do.  I  talked  and  Swatty  talked,  and  it 
seemed  the  only  way  we  could  keep  from  being  hung, 
because  "murder  will  out,"  as  it  says  in  our  reader. 
I  only  had  twenty-five  cents  that  I  had  n't  paid 
Mr.  Higgins  forthe  skiff,  and  Swatty  only  had  four- 
teen cents.  We  knew  that  was  n't  nearly  enough 
money.  We  did  n't  know  what  Bony  had,  but  after- 
ward we  found  he  only  had  a  dime.  But  Swatty  said 
we  could  get  work  to  do  in  some  of  the  places  we 
would  get  to,  and  we  could  steal  green  corn  and 
roast  it  —  only  he  would  have  to  steal  it,  because  it 
would  n't  be  right  for  me. 

We  thought  the  best  thing  to  do  would  be  to  start 
out  of  our  back  gate  and  go  due  west,  and  keep  going 
west  until  we  came  to  Montana  or  New  Mexico,  or 
wherever  we  got  to,  only  we  had  to  get  the  rifle  first, 
because  if  we  left  it,  it  would  be  evidence  against 
208 


THE  MURDERERS 

us,  and  anyway  we  might  kill  some  game  with  it. 
We  had  it  all  fixed  up  how  we  would  do,  and  just 
then  Bony  came  over  the  back  fence,  and  we  told 
it  all  over  again.  We  did  n't  think  he  would  go  with 
us,  but  he  said  he  would. 

So  we  talked  it  all  over,  and  it  was  n't  like  any 
other  time  we  had  ever  talked  anything  over.  Most 
times  we  just  talked  about  running  away  but  we 
did  n't  mean  it,  but  this  time  it  was  a  mighty  serious 
thing  and  we  meant  it.  Other  times  when  we  talked 
we  were  afraid  to  run  away,  but  this  time  we  were 
afraid  not  to.  It  was  almost  noon  when  we  got  ready 
to  go,  and  just  as  we  were  going  Mother  saw  us  and 
called  us  back.  She  asked  me  if  we  were  going  to  the 
woods,  and  we  were,  so  I  said  we  were,  and  she  said 
we  ought  n't  to  go  without  lunch,  so  she  made  us 
sandwiches,  and  we  were  glad  to  have  them.  I  said 
"Good-bye,  Mother,"  and  she  said  "Good-bye, 
son,"  and  she  did  n't  know  that  maybe  it  was  the 
last  time  she  'd  ever  say  it  to  me,  but  I  knew  it  be- 
cause maybe  she  would  grow  old  and  die  before  I 
ever  came  back. 

Well,  we  started  off.  We  did  n't  talk  much  —  even 
Swatty  did  n't.  We  went  past  his  barn,  and  he  went 
in  to  say  good-bye  to  his  dog,  but  we  did  n't  dare 
take  him  along,  because  somebody  might  know  us 
by  him,  so  he  whined  and  cried  when  we  went  away. 
We  did  n't  say  anything  much  until  we  got  to  the 
city  limits  and  then  Swatty  said,  "Well,  anyway, 
now  the  town  police  can't  touch  us,  because  we  are 
209 


SWATTY 

out  of  town,  and  they  can't  touch  anybody  out  of 
town",  and  Bony  began  to  cry. 

But  he  did  n't  cry  loud  —  he  just  sort  of  sniggered 
to  himself  and  wiped  his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his 
hand.  I  guess  maybe  I  cried,  too,  but  not  very  loud, 
either. 

If  it  had  n't  been  for  being  hung  I  would  have 
gone  back,  and  I  would  have  told  the  minister  all 
about  killing  the  man,  because  I  kept  thinking  about 
Mamie  Little  and  that  some  other  boy  would  play 
with  her  and  grow  up  and  marry  her,  and  maybe  I  'd 
never  see  her  again,  even  if  he  did  n't  marry  her. 
Swatty  was  the  only  one  that  did  n't  cry  a  little. 
He  did  n't  have  to,  because  he  let  on  to  be  mad  at 
us  for  being  mushies,  and  he  swore  instead.  He  swore 
at  me  and  Bony,  and  I  could  have  kept  from  crying, 
too,  if  I  could  have  swore,  but  I  could  n't  because  I 
gave  it  up  when  I  got  religion. 

•  After  we  got  beyond  the  houses  that  are  beyond 
the  city  limits  we  went  across  the  vacant  lots  and 
across  the  old  fair  grounds  and  down  over  the  hill. 
We  got  down  to  the  river  road  and  climbed  over  the 
fence  and  got  under  the  bob-wire  fence  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road  and  went  through  the  cornfield. 
We  forgot  about  our  footprints. 

When  we  got  to  the  edge  of  the  cornfield  Bony 
would  n't  go  any  farther.  He  was  scared  to  go  any 
nearer  the  dead  man.  Swatty  and  me  crawled  under 
the  wires  and  went  across  the  railroad  track,  and 
before  we  were  across  them  we  dodged  back  into  the 
210 


THE  MURDERERS 

cut  alongside  the  track,  and  Swatty  dropped  flat  in 
the  weeds.  So  I  dropped  flat,  too.  The  reason  was 
that  there  were  eight  or  ten  men  on  the  front  deck 
of  the  shanty  house,  and  I  don't  know  how  many 
more  inside. 

They  had  found  the  man  we  had  murdered. 

We  just  lay  there  and  held  our  breath.  I  could  n't 
think  of  anything,  I  was  so  scared  again.  I  just  re- 
membered how  "murder  will  out,"  and  how  a  mur- 
derer will  always  come  back  to  where  he  murdered 
anybody,  and  that  there  we  were,  and  that  as  soon 
as  they  saw  us  they  'd  know  we  were  the  murderers, 
because  we  had  come  back.  I  don't  know  what 
Swatty  was  doing,  and  I  did  n  't  know  what 
I  was  doing,  but  I  guess  as  soon  as  I  was  able  I 
started  to  try  to  dig  a  hole  in  the  railroad  embank- 
ment with  my  finger  nails,  to  crawl  into  and  hide, 
because  that  was  what  I  was  doing  when  I  heard 
the  men  come  up  the  other  side  of  the  embankment. 
f  They  were  coming  up  from  the  shanty  boat,  and 
one  of  the  men  was  saying,  "Steady  now!  Keep  that 
door  level,  can't  you?"  So  I  could  n't  dig  any  more. 
My  fingers  would  n't  work.  My  arms  and  legs  felt 
as  if  they  were  full  of  cold  ice  water,  and  I  could  n't 
lift  up  my  hands  to  put  my  hat  on  tighter,  which  I 
wanted  to  do  because  I  could  feel  my  hair  lifting  up 
and  lifting  my  hat  up.  I  did  n't  think  about  being 
hung  or  anything,  but  just  how  awful  it  would  be 
if  the  men  let  the  door  tip  and  rolled  the  murdered 
man  down  on  top  of  us.  I  guess  I  ought  to  have 
211 


SWATTY 

thought  of  how  innocent  I  was,  but  I  did  n't.  I 
did  n't  even  think  of  being  religious.  I  just  felt  my 
backbone  creep  and  my  hair  lift  up  and  my  arms 
and  legs  get  colder  and  colder. 

We  heard  the  men  carrying  the  dead  man  away. 
I  could  n't  move,  and  I  guess  I  would  never  have 
dared  to  move  again  if  it  had  n't  been  for  Swatty. 
As  soon  as  we  could  n't  hear  the  men  any  more 
Swatty  lifted  his  head  and  crawled  up  the  embank- 
ment and  looked.  I  would  n't  have  done  it  for  a 
million  billion  quadrillion  dollars.  He  looked,  and 
when  he  saw  they  were  n't  thinking  of  us,  but  were 
all  looking  at  the  dead  man  on  the  door  and  going 
away  from  us  down  the  railroad  track  he  scrabbled 
up  the  rest  of  the  embankment  and  scrabbled  across 
the  track  and  down  the  other  side.  He  was  back 
right  away,  with  the  target  rifle,  and  then  he  told 
me  to  get  up  and  get  away  from  there,  but  I  could  n't 
get  up.  So  he  kicked  me  two  or  three  times  hard,  and 
when  he  kicked  me  on  my  hip  bone  I  got  mad  and 
forgot  to  be  so  scared  and  got  up.  We  ran  through 
the  cornfield  and  got  Bony,  and  all  three  of  us  got 
across  the  road  and  ran  up  the  hillside  into  the 
woods  as  hard  as  we  could  run. 

I  don't  know  how  many  miles  we  ran.  We  ran 
until  we  had  to  fall  down  because  our  legs  would  n't 
work  any  more.  We  sat  in  the  bushes  awhile  and 
rested,  and  then  we  went  on,  but  we  walked  mostly. 
We  only  ran  once  in  a  while.  We  came  to  a  road  we 
did  n't  know,  but  it  went  sort  of  west ;  and  we  went 
212 


THE  MURDERERS 

on  down  that  road  a  long  way  and  that  night  we 
slept  in  a  haystack  —  not  because  it  was  cold  but 
to  be  hid.  The  next  morning  we  went  on  again,  and 
before  noon  we  were  mighty  hungry.  Bony  was 
hungriest,  and  he  cried  a  lot,  and  I  cried  a  little,  but 
Swatty  was  willing  to  fight  us  whenever  we  wanted 
to  stop  and  rest  too  long,  because  it  was  n't  safe  yet. 
We  were  a  long  way  from  Arizona  or  Montana  or 
wherever  we  were  going,  and  it  was  just  about  the 
time  the  sheriff  and  everybody  would  start  out  to 
find  us  if  they  thought  we  were  the  murderers.  We 
just  plugged  along  and  felt  mean  and  tired,  and  I 
thought  about  Mother  and  Mamie  Little  a  lot.  I  felt 
so  bad  I  almost  did  n't  care  if  they  did  catch  me  and 
hang  me.  That's  the  way  Bony  felt,  too,  but  Swatty 
kept  us  going. 

Swatty  went  up  to  a  house  about  supper  time  and 
asked  for  some  bread  and  butter,  and  he  got  it  and 
brought  part  of  it  to  us.  Then  he  made  us  go  on, 
because  he  said  we  ought  to  get  as  far  from  that 
house  as  we  could  after  we'd  been  seen  there.  So  we 
went  until  I  was  ready  to  die,  and  we  found  a 
hayrick  in  a  field  and  we  were  just  going  to  hide  in 
it  when  three  men  on  horseback  and  some  in  a  buggy 
—  two  more  —  came  up  the  road  and  saw  us  and 
shouted  at  us. 

Well,  we  knew  it  was  all  up.  The  men  started  to 

climb  over  the  fence,  and  we  walked  toward  them 

because  we  knew  we  could  n  't  get  away,  and  it  was 

just  as  well  to  be  hung  as  to  be  shot  trying  to  run 

213 


SWATTY 

away.  I  guess  it  was  the  most  awful  feeling  I  ever 
had  in  my  life. 

When  we  got  up  to  them  one  of  the  men  was 
Swatty's  father  and  another  was  my  minister.  As 
soon  as  Swatty  got  there  his  father  took  Hm  by  the 
collar  of  his  coat,  and  shook  him  and  hit  J  im  on  the 
side  of  the  head  and  told  him  what  he  thought  of 
him  for  running  away  and  making  so  much  trouble ; 
but  when  he  let  go  of  him  Swatty  just  dropped  down 
on  the  grass  and  shut  his  eyes,  because  he  was  so 
played  out  that  all  he  had  to  be  was  shook,  and  he 
went  unconscious.  So  Bony  started  to  cry  and  the 
minister  said,  "Shame!"  and  then  Swatty's  father 
got  red  in  the  face,  and  dropped  on  his  knees  beside 
Swatty  and  picked  him  up  and  kissed  him.  He  cried. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  a  man  cry. 

So  then  I  guessed  I  'd  confess  the  whole  thing  to 
my  minister,  and  I  did.  The  other  men  were  all  try- 
ing to  get  Swatty  to  open  his  eyes  and  my  minister 
listened  to  me.  He  listened  to  all  of  it  —  all  about 
the  murder  and  all.  Then  he  put  his  hand  on  my 
shoulder,  and  he  said,  "You  poor  boy!  And  you 
thought  I  was  hunting  you  down?"  And  I  said, 
"How  long  will  it  be  before  they  hang  us?"  And  he 
said,  "George,  I  hope  you  will  never  be  hung,  be- 
cause that  man  was  n't  murdered.  He  was  a  suicide, 
and  he  wrote  a  letter  about  it  before  he  went  to  do 
it."  So  I  started  to  say  how  glad  I  was  and,  when  I 
come  to,  I  was  at  a  farmhouse  and  my  minister  was 
trying  to  get  me  to  drink  some  milk. 
214 


THE  MURDERERS 

So  after  while  we  went  home.  Father  was  n't 
there,  because  he  was  out  with  some  other  folks 
hunting  for  us,  but  Mother  and  Fan  and  a  lot  of 
people  were,  and  my  minister  told  them  all  about  it, 
and  the  women  all  cried  to  think  of  us  three  all  alone 
with  a  murder  on  our  minds  and  our  legs  tired,  I 
guess,  and  not  much  to  eat.  But  I  was  so  tired  I 
did  n't  care.  I  was  so  tired  I  did  n't  care  who  was 
there.  I  was  so  tired  I  was  n't  even  glad  I  was  n  't 
a  murderer.  Then  somebody  came  out  from  behind 
the  women  where  she  had  been,  where  they  would  n 't 
notice  her  much,  and  she  did  n't  look  at  me  or  any- 
body. She  just  said: 

"Well,  I  guess  I'll  go  home  now." 

"Why,  Mamie  Little,  have  you  been  waiting  up 
all  this  while?"  my  mother  said.  "You  should  be  in 
bed,  child." 

So  she  did  n't  look  at  me,  and  I  did  n't  look  at  her. 
She  just  went  home.  But  then  I  knew  I  was  glad  I 
was  n't  a  murderer.  Because  I  knew  that  Mamie 
Little  would  n't  have  thought  I  'd  got  religion  very 
good  if  all  I  'd  got  let  me  go  around  murdering  men 
in  shanty  boats.  And  I  did  n't  want  Mamie  Little 
to  think  that  about  me,  because  —  well,  I  did  n't 
know  why,  I  just  thought  it. 


X 

SLIM  FINNEGAN 

WELL,  I  guess  the  nearest  Swatty  ever  came  to 
having  a  lot  of  money  was  the  time  Mr.  Murphy 
got  it  and  Swatty  did  n't.  It  was  a  thousand  and 
five  hundred  dollars,  and  if  Swatty  did  n't  get  it 
Mamie  Little  ought  to  have  had  it;  and  if  Mamie 
Little  did  n't  get  it  I  ought  to  have  had  it;  but  we 
did  n't  any  of  us  get  it,  because  Mr.  Murphy  got  it. 

I  told  you  about  the  time  Mamie  Little  got  mad 
at  me  because  I  had  been  prohibition  and  changed 
over  to  anti-prohibition  because  Swatty  could  lick 
me,  and  about  how  her  father  had  the  prohibition 
newspaper.  Well,  he  kept  publishing  in  his  news- 
paper that  the  saloons  ought  to  be  closed;  so  one 
day  somebody  blew  up  Mr.  Little's  house  with  dyna- 
mite —  only  it  was  gunpowder.  But  they  called  it 
dynamite.  They  called  the  men  that  blew  up  the 
house  the  dynamiters.  They  blew  up  two  other 
houses,  too,  and  that  was  why  Mr.  Murphy  was  in 
town.  He  was  a  detective.  He  came  and  worked  in 
the  sawmill,  and  nobody  knew  he  was  a  detective 
until  he  got  the  money  me  or  Swatty  or  Mamie  Lit- 
tle ought  to  have  had. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  was  sitting  on  the 
empty  manure  bin  back  of  our  barn,  smoking  corn- 
silk  cigarettes,  and  that  reminded  us  of  the  time  we 
216 


'  SLIM  FINNEGAN 

were  up  the  river  smoking  driftwood  grapevine 
cigarettes,  when  we  saw  Slim  Finnegan  steal  the 
gunpowder,  and  we  got  to  talking  about  it. 

"Well,  if  anybody  ever  finds  out  Slim  Finnegan 
stole  it  he  won't  stab  me!"  Swatty  said;  "because 
he  would  n't  think  I  told  on  him,  because  I  ain't 
prohibition  and  I  never  was ;  and  I  guess  Slim  and 
everybody  knows  it." 

So  that  made  me  and  Bony  feel  pretty  scared, 
because  everybody  knew  Slim  Finnegan  was  a 
stabber.  He'd  just  as  soon  stab  you  as  not.  I  don't 
remember  whether  he  ever  had  stabbed  anybody; 
but  I  guess  he  had,  because  everybody  said  so.  Any- 
way, he  was  always  showing  us  the  knife  he  stabbed 
fellers  with  when  he  wanted  to  stab  them,  and  he 
said  he'd  stab  any  of  us  for  two  cents.  The  knife 
had  a  staghorn  handle  and  a  six-inch  blade,  with  a 
curve  in  it  and  a  spring  in  the  back  that,  when  you 
pressed  it,  snapped  the  blade  open  all  ready  to  stab 
with. 

Once,  when  he  met  me  when  I  was  alone,  he 
grabbed  me  by  the  neck  and  backed  me  against  a 
fence  post,  and  pulled  out  the  knife  and  opened  it. 
I  bellered  and  said:  "Aw,  lemme  alone,  Slim!  I  never 
done  nothin'  to  you!"  And  he  said  he  knew  mighty 
well  I  had  n't  and  that  I  'd  better  not  try  to,  be- 
cause he  was  a  stabber,  and  if  I  did  anything  he 
did  n't  like  he  'd  cut  my  heart  out  and  leave  it  stick- 
ing to  the  fence  post  with  the  knife  in  it,  to  show 
fellers  not  to  monkey  with  Slim  Finnegan.  So  I  said 
V2I7 


SWATTY 

I  'd  never,  never  do  anything  he  did  n't  want  me  to, 
and  please  to  let  me  go.  So  he  said,  well,  he  guessed 
he  'd  stab  me,  anyway,  while  he  had  me ;  and  he  put 
the  point  of  his  knife  against  my  stomach  and  leaned 
up  against  me,  so  that  all  he  had  to  do  was  lean  a 
little  harder  against  the  handle  of  the  knife  and  I  'd 
be  stabbed. 

I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  killed,  sure.  I  held  my 
breath,  and  my  bones  felt  like  water;  and  just  then 
he  laughed  at  me  and  bumped  my  head  against  the 
post  three  times  and  threw  me  down  on  the  grass 
and  went  away. 

That  was  before  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  saw 
him  set  the  lumber  yard  afire  too.  After  we  saw  him 
set  the  lumber  yard  afire  we  were  all  more  scared  of 
him  than  ever;  even  Swatty  was  scared  of  him,  and 
said  so.  When  we  saw  him  set  the  lumber  yard  afire 
Slim  was  in  our  class  at  school ;  but  he  was  twice  as 
big  as  anybody  in  our  room,  because  he  only  went 
to  school  when  he  wanted  to  and  he  did  n't  want  to 
very  often ;  and  after  the  fire  he  quit  going  to  school. 
I  guess  he  went  bumming  for  a  while. 

The  first  I  knew  about  Slim  Finnegan  was  when  I 
was  a  little  bit  of  a  kid  and  not  big  enough  to  ride 
belly  buster  or  knee  gut  on  a  sled  or  slide  down  the 
big  hills.  I  had  a  high  sled  and  rode  on  it  sitting  down, 
and  rode  from  the  sidewalk  into  the  gutter,  and 
things  like  that.  So  my  father  got  me  a  new  sled  on 
my  birthday,  a  clipper  sled  with  half-round  irons, 
and  it  was  painted  red  and  was  named  Dexter.  I 
218 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

took  it  out  on  the  hill  where  the  big  kids  were  sliding 
and  tried  to  ride  belly  buster  on  it,  which  is  lying 
flat  on  your  stomach  and  steering  with  both  feet, 
like  knee  gut  is  lying  on  one  knee  and  steering  with 
the  other  foot,  but  the  runners  on  my  sled  were 
so  slick  that  when  I  put  the  sled  down  it  slid  away 
before  I  could  get  onto  it. 

So  I  was  trying  that  when  Slim  Finnegan  came  up. 
I  had  n't  ever  seen  him  before,  but  he  acted  nice 
and  said  the  way  I  was  trying  to  get  onto  the  sled 
was  n't  the  right  way  and  he  would  show  me  how. 
So  he  took  my  sled  and  ran  away  and  belly  busted 
onto  it.  He  went  down  the  hill  like  a  flash.  I  watched 
him  until  I  could  n't  tell  which  was  Slim  and  which 
was  some  other  feller,  away  down  the  hill,  and  then 
I  could  n't  tell  any  one  from  any  other,  and  I  waited 
for  him  to  come  back.  One  feller  came  up  the  hill, 
and  then  another  and  dozens  came  up,  but  Slim 
did  n't  come  back  with  my  sled;  and  after  a  while  I 
began  to  blubber  the  way  kids  do,  and  a  girl  I  did  n't 
know  took  me  by  the  arm  and  led  me  home,  saying, 
"Don't  cry,  Georgie!  Don't  cry,  Georgie!"  all  the 
way. 

So  the  girl  told  my  mother  somebody  had  stolen 
my  sled,  and  that  was  the  first  I  knew  it  was  stolen. 
When  my  father  came  home  he  asked  me  what  the 
boy  was  like  that  took  my  sled  and  I  told  him,  and 
he  went  out  and  after  a  long  time  he  came  back  and 
he  had  my  sled.  It  was  all  painted  over  with  fresh 
drab  paint  except  where  my  father  had  scraped  the 
219 


SWATTY 

paint  off  to  show  that  it  was  my  sled.  He  said:  "That 
drunken  Finnegan's  dirty  son  stole  it!"  So  that  was 
the  first  I  knew  of  Slim  Finnegan. 

When  I  got  old  enough  to  play  away  from  the 
house  I  mighty  soon  knew  that  Slim  Finnegan  was 
the  feller  that  would  sneak  up  on  us  little  kids  when 
we  were  playing  marbles  and  grab  up  our  marbles 
and  steal  them  and,  if  we  said  anything,  twist  our 
arms  behind  us  until  we  yelled.  He  was  the  one  that 
would  sit  in  the  long  grass  out  in  the  field  when  we 
played  ball  and,  if  the  ball  came  near  him,  grab  it 
up  and  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  laugh  at  us.  He  was 
the  one  that,  if  he  came  on  us  when  we  were  fishing, 
would  throw  our  worm  can  in  the  Slough  and  take 
the  fish  we  had  caught,  and  then  swear  at  us.  He 
was  a  sneak  and  a  thief  and  a  tough,  and  his  father 
was  a  tough  and  a  drunkard;  and  it  was  n't  safe  to 
send  your  washing  to  Mrs.  Finnegan  because  some- 
times she  got  drunk  and  did  n't  do  it  for  a  week, 
and  sometimes  it  did  n't  all  come  back. 

Well,  Swatty  said  that  Slim  Finnegan  would  n't 
stab  him,  because  he  was  anti-prohibition  and  Slim 
was  too ;  so  Bony  thought  maybe  he  'd  better  turn 
anti-prohibition,  and  he  did.  And  I  hoped  Slim 
knew  I  had  turned,  but  I  was  afraid  he  did  n't. 

Well,  one  day  that  spring  —  but  pretty  late  — 
me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  went  down  to  the  levee 
and  hired  a  skiff  from  Higgins  like  we  always  did; 
and  we  rowed  across  the  Mississippi  to  the  Illinois 
shore  above  the  old  ferry  landing.  I  guess  maybe  we 
220 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

were  after  turtle  eggs;  so  when  we  saw  the  shore  was 
all  mud  Swatty  said : 

"Let's  row  up  to  the  head  of  the  Slough  and  row 
down  the  Slough." 

"What  for?"  I  asked  him. 

"Oh,  just  for  cod!"  he  says.  So  we  did. 

We  rowed  up  to  the  place  where  the  Slough 
branches  off  from  the  river,  and  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  water  in  the  Slough  yet,  so  we  rowed  down 
the  Slough  until  we  came  almost  to  the  ferry  road, 
and  then  we  thought  we  would  stop  and  get  some 
grapevine  driftwood  to  smoke,  and  we  did.  We 
rowed  to  the  shore  of  the  Slough  and  got  out  and 
found  plenty  of  driftwood  where  it  had  lodged 
against  the  bushes  and  tree  roots,  and  we  lit  up  and 
smoked  and  sat  awhile  just  doing  that. 

Then  Swatty  said:  "Come  on!  Let's  go  over  to 
that  sand  by  the  powder  house  and  see  if  there  are 
any  turtle  eggs  there  yet." 

That  was  a  good  place  for  turtle  eggs,  because  the 
sand  was  hotter  there  sooner  than  anywhere  else. 
It  was  a  sort  of  cleared  place  without  many  trees  or 
bushes,  all  soft  sand  and  not  very  far  from  the  ferry 
road.  So  we  walked  along  down  the  Slough  and 
pretty  soon  we  came  to  a  skiff  pulled  up  on  the 
shore.  I  was  nearest,  so  I  jumped  into  it;  but 
Swatty  did  n't.  He  said: 

"Garsh!  You'd  better  get  out  of  that  skiff.  Some 
feller  has  just  left  that  skiff  there,  because  his  foot- 
prints on  the  bow  seat  ain't  dry  yet.  If  he  came  back 
221 


SWATTY 

and  seen  us  playing  in  his  skiff  he  'd  like  as  not  give 
us  good  and  plenty!" 

And  that  was  right,  because  when  a  feller  rows 
over  from  town  or  anywhere  he  don't  like  kids  to 
fool  with  his  skiff ;  because  if  the  skiff  got  away  how 
could  he  get  back  to  town?  So  if  they  catch  you  in 
their  skiffs  they  bat  you  a  good  one.  So  I  got  out  of 
the  skiff  and  Swatty  went  on  ahead,  and  me  and 
Bony  followed;  and  we  come  to  the  sandy  place  by 
the  powder  house. 

A  powder  house  is  a  little  square  shack  about  as 
big  as  a  closet,  covered  with  sheet  iron  and  painted 
red  for  danger.  This  was  the  only  one  on  the  Illinois 
side,  but  there  were  two  more  on  the  Iowa  side,  up 
the  river  from  town  a  good  ways;  and  the  reason 
they  were  so  far  from  town  was  because  the  whole- 
sale grocers  sold  powder,  but  the  city  did  n't  allow 
them  to  keep  any  inside  the  city  limits.  When  they 
sold  some  they  sent  over  to  get  it.  The  powder  houses 
were  painted  with  big  letters  to  say  DANGER  !  and 
that  nobody  must  shoot  at  them  or  build  a  fire  near 
them,  or  they  might  explode.  So  that  was  why  this 
one  was  in  the  middle  of  the  sandy  place  —  sand 
can't  burn  like  grass  does. 

So  we  come  through  the  bushes  to  where  we  could 
see  the  powder  house  and  we  all  stopped  short  right 
there,  for  there  was  Slim  Finnegan  coming  out  oi 
the  powder  house  with  a  bag  over  his  shoulder,  with 
what  anybody  could  tell  was  an  iron  powder  keg  in 
it.  As  soon  as  we  saw  him  he  saw  us  and  we  dodged 

222 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

back  into  the  bushes  and  ran.  We  ran  pretty  far, 
and  then  we  stopped  and  listened  and  did  n't  hear 
anything;  so  we  hid  down  behind  a  log  and  waited. 
We  knew  that  if  Slim  Finnegan  found  us  he  'd  stab 
us  or  something.  Anyway,  we  thought  he  would. 
Me  and  Bony  did.  I  guess  Swatty  did  too. 

After  we  had  waited  what  seemed  like  a  couple 
of  hours  —  but  I  guess  it  was  about  half  a  minute  — 
Swatty  put  his  head  up  above  the  log  and  looked, 
and  did  n't  see  anything.  Then  he  got  up  and  went 
round  the  log  and  started  to  go  back  to  the  powder 
house.  Bony  did  n't  say  anything,  because  he  was 
too  scared,  but  I  yelled,  "Swatty!  Swatty!"  in  a 
whisper,  because  I  wanted  him  to  come  back;  but 
he  just  turned  and  motioned  us  to  be  still,  and  he 
went  on.  He  walked  as  careful  as  he  could.  Pretty 
soon  he  came  back  and  dropped  down  behind  the 
log  again. 

"It's  Slim  Finnegan,  all  right,"  he  said  —  only 
he  said  "orl  right,"  like  he  always  does;  "and  he's 
stealing  a  keg  of  powder"  —  only  he  said  it  sort  of 
like  "kerg  of  powder." 

"What'd  you  see,  Swatty?"  I  whispered. 

"I  seen  him  shift  the  bag  from  one  shoulder  to 
the  other,"  Swatty  said,  "and  I  could  see  the  ridges 
on  the  keg,  all  right !  If  we  wanted  to  we  could  tell 
the  police  and  they'd  put  him  in  jail." 

"Aw,  don't,  Swatty!"  I  said.  "If  you  do  that  he'll 
wait  until  he  gets  out  and  then  he'll  stab  all  of  us. 
Aw,  don't  tell  the  police,  Swatty!" 
223 


SWATTY 

"Maybe  I  will  and  maybe  I  won't,"  Swatty  said. 
"I  ain't  made  up  my  mind  yet  what  I'll  do.  I  ain't 
afraid  of  his  old  stabbin'  knife,  I  tell  you  that !  He 
can't  scare  me!  There  ain't  any  Slim  Finnegan  that 
ever  lived  could  scare  me.  If  he  pulled  his  old  frog 
stabber  on  me  I'd  — " 

He  stopped  short  and  I  saw  him  put  out  one  hand 
and  grab  the  log,  and  his  face  looked  like  a  dead 
man's,  and  then  I  looked  up  from  the  callus  I  was 
fixing  on  my  foot  and  I  saw  Slim  Finnegan  too.  He 
was  standing  right  in  front  of  us  with  a  pistol  in  his 
hand  and  the  pistol  was  pointed  right  at  us.  He  had  a 
mean-looking  face,  sort  of  foxy  and  sort  of  sneery, 
and  now  it  had  a  sort  of  grin  on  it,  and  it  was  ugly. 
It  was  the  kind  of  grin  he  had  when  he  twisted  a 
little  kid's  arm  and  made  him  scream.  He  was  just 
like  he  always  was,  sort  of  muddy-haired  and  yellow- 
faced  and  slouchy  in  the  shoulders,  and  tobacco 
juice  in  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  He  looked  just  the 
way  he  always  looked  when  he  was  going  to  have 
some  fun  hurting  somebody. 

I  felt  pretty  sick.  I  felt  hot  in  the  stomach,  as  if  a 
bullet  had  already  made  a  hot  hole  there.  I  sort  of 
twitched  in  different  places  as  each  place  got  to 
thinking  it  was  the  place  the  bullet  was  going  to  hit. 
I  don't  know  what  Bony  did ;  I  had  all  I  wanted  to 
do  without  thinking  of  anybody  else.  All  of  a  sudden 
Slim  opened  his  dirty  mouth  and  swore  at  us  the 
worst  anybody  ever  heard. 

"Get  up  out  of  there,  you"  —  something  — 
224 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

"rats!"  he  said  in  the  meanest  voice  he  had.  "Get 
up!" 

So  we  got  up. 

"You  get  along  there,  now!"  he  ordered,  swearing 
some  more ;  and  he  waved  us  where  to  go. 

We  did  n't  say  a  word,  not  even  Swatty.  We  just 
went ;  and  instead  of  thinking  I  felt  the  bullet  com- 
ing into  my  stomach  I  thought  I  felt  it  coming  into 
the  joints  of  my  back.  I  put  my  hand  behind  me  to 
sort  of  help  stop  it  if  it  came.  That  way  he  sent  us 
through  the  brush  to  the  sandy  place.  He  walked  us 
toward  the  powder  house,  and  then,  all  at  once,  he 
shouted  at  us  to  throw  down  our  grapevine  ciga- 
rettes. He  asked  us  if  we  wanted  to  blow  him  to  hell. 
So  we  threw  them  down. 

Then  he  came  up  to  me  and  hit  me  on  the  side  of 
the  head  and  knocked  me  down  in  the  sand,  and 
threw  Bony  on  top  of  me,  and  slapped  Swatty  so  he 
staggered;  but  Swatty  didn't  fall.  He  swore  back 
at  Slim,  and  Slim  slapped  him  again  and  knocked 
him  down.  For  a  million  dollars  I  would  n't  have 
sworn  back  at  a  stabber  that  had  a  pistol ;  but  that 's 
how  Swatty  is.  Anyway,  he  was  the  only  one  of  us 
that  could  swear  good  enough  to  make  it  worth 
while  swearing  back. 

Well,  Slim  had  left  the  door  of  the  powder  house 
open  and  when  he  had  us  all  knocked  down  he  came 
over  and  kicked  at  us,  and  I  was  the  one  he  kicked. 
He  swore  all  the  time,  a  steady  stream,  and  it  was 
the  thoroughest  swearing  I  ever  heard.  It  sounded 
225 


SWATTY 

like  business.  Then  he  jerked  Swatty  up  and  slung 
him  toward  the  powder  house  and  slung  him  inside, 
and  then  he  took  me  and  Bony  and  slung  us  the 
same  way.  He  slung  us  all  into  the  powder  house. 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  go  blattin'  about  me  when  you 
see  me!"  he  said.  "Dirty  little  rats!  I'll  learn  you 
a  lesson  !  You  '11  never  come  your  sneakin'  spy  in'  on 
me  again!  You'll  have  enough  when  I  get  through 
with  you  this  time.  You  want  to  know  what  I'm 
goin'  to  do  with  you?" 

Well,  we  did  sort  of  want  to  know,  but  we  did  n't 
say  so. 

"I'm  goin'  to  lock  you  in  there,"  he  said;  "and 
I'm  goin'  to  leave  you  in  there  to  starve,  like  the 
dirty  sneaks  you  are.  I  '11  teach  you  to  go  tellin'  lies 
about  me!  You'd  go  and  say  I  stole  that  can  of 
powder,  would  n't  you?  Well,  I  did  n't  steal  it  — 
see?  I  bought  it.  I  bought  it  and  they  sent  me  over 
to  get  it.  It's  none  of  your  business,  anyway.  You 
sneakin'  rats!" 

Bony  started  to  cry.  Slim  told  him  to  shut  up, 
and  he  did.  He  scowled  at  us. 

'  '  No,  by  "  —  something  —  he  said  ,  swearing  ; 
"starving  is  too  good  for  tattle-tellin'  rats  like  you. 
Somebody  might  come  and  let  you  out.  I  know  what 
I  'm  goin'  to  do  to  you.  I  'm  goin'  to  lock  you  in  and 
then  I  'm  goin'  to  set  a  fire  and  blow  you  to  a  million 
pieces.  I  '11  blow  you  up,  like  the  sneakin'  rats  you 


are 


" 


I  can't  make  it  sound  the  way  it  sounded  to  us, 
226 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

because  I  can't  swear  the  way  he  did.  He  swore, 
to  show  he  meant  it,  and  then  he  slammed  the  iron- 
covered  door  and  we  heard  the  iron  bar  scrape  as 
he  put  it  across  the  door,  and  we  heard  the  padlock 
click  into  the  staple.  We  were  in  the  dark,  darker 
dark  than  I  was  ever  in  before.  Bony  began  to  cry 
sort  of  funny,  like  a  sick  animal  with  a  voice  that 
was  too  weak  to  cry  very  good.  All  I  can  remember 
was  that  I  put  out  my  hands  and  felt  Swatty  and 
hung  onto  his  coat  with  both  hands. 

I  hung  on  and  held  my  breath  and  waited  for  the 
explosion  to  come.  We  heard  Slim  cracking  sticks 
across  his  knee;  we  could  hear  the  sticks  snap.  Then 
we  heard  him  piling  the  sticks  against  the  outside 
of  the  powder  house,  and  pretty  soon  we  heard 
scratch !  scratch !  —  like  a  match  on  a  box.  It  was 
the  hardest  waiting  for  anything  I  ever  did.  Waiting 
to  be  blown  up  is  always  like  that,  I  guess. 

The  place  where  he  was  piling  the  sticks  was  one 
of  the  front  corners  of  the  powder  house,  and  there 
was  n't  so  very  much  powder  in  the  house,  and  what 
there  was  was  in  different  piles,  for  the  different 
kinds  and  sizes  of  kegs.  All  of  a  sudden  Swatty 
pushed  my  hands  off  him  and  stooped  down  and 
began  feeling  on  the  floor  in  the  corner  where  the 
fire  was  going  to  be.  There  were  four  or  five  little 
kegs  of  powder  in  that  corner  and  Swatty  began 
picking  them  up  and  putting  them  on  one  of  the 
other  piles  that  was  not  so  near  the  corner.  I  guess 
nobody  but  Swatty  would  have  thought  of  doing 
227 


SWATTY 

that;  but  when  he  started  I  started,  too,  and  we 
moved  the  powder  as  fast  as  we  could.  Then  the 
door  opened. 

Slim  had  taken  off  the  padlock  and  the  iron  bar 
so  quietly  we  had  n't  heard  him,  and  when  he  opened 
the  door  he  caught  us  shifting  the  kegs. 

"Come  out  of  there!"  he  said.  "Now  you  know 
what  I  '11  do  to  you  if  you  go  telling  about  me.  If  I 
ever  hear  you  have  mentioned  my  name,  or  if  you 
ever  say  it  to  each  other,  I  '11  get  you  and  bring  you 
over  here  and  finish  this  job  right!" 

Well,  we  guessed  he'd  do  it. 

"I'd  have  done  it  now,"  he  said,  "only  I  don't 
want  to  blow  up  powder  that  don't  belong  to  me. 
And  here's  the  keg  I  had,"  he  said,  throwing  one 
into  the  powder  house.  "Now,  you  get!  And  if  you 
ever  say  a  word  you'll  know  what '11  happen  to  you. 
Get!" 

We  ran.  We  ran  like  scared  deer,  and  all  I  wanted 
to  do  was  to  get  as  far  away  as  I  could.  We  ran  a 
long  way  up  the  Slough  and  then  Swatty  stopped, 
and  I  stopped  because  he  stopped,  but  Bony  kept 
on  running. 

"Come  on!"  I  said  to  Swatty.  "What  you  stop- 
ping for?" 

"Hide  in  there,"  he  said,  pointing  to  some  bushes. 
"I'll  come  back." 

He  crouched  Indian  fashion  and  went  toward  the 
Slough  and  out  of  sight.  It  was  quite  awhile  before 
he  came  back. 

228 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

"Garsh,  he's  a  liar!"  he  said  when  he  came  back. 
"That  keg  of  powder  he  stole  was  n't  the  one  he  put 
back.  He 's  got  that  one  in  his  skiff  yet.  It  was  an- 
other one  he  put  back." 

"Swatty,  you  ain't  goin'  to  tell  on  him,  are  you?" 
I  asked. 

"You  bet  I  ain't!"  he  said.  "I  just  wanted  to 
know.  You  bet  I  ain't  going  to  tell;  if  I  did  he'd 
stab  us  in  a  minute." 

Well,  I  guess  we  waited  round  an  hour  before  we 
went  home,  and  then  we  were  mighty  glad  there  was 
any  of  us  left  to  go  home,  because  we  had  all  thought 
we  were  going  to  be  blown  into  such  little  pieces 
nobody  would  ever  find  any  of  us  again. 

Now  about  the  dynamiters:  After  I  had  marched 
in  the  prohibition  parade  because  Mamie  Little's 
father  was  a  prohibition  man  —  there  was  prohibi- 
tion in  Iowa,  all  over,  and  for  a  while  Riverbank 
did  n't  have  any  saloons  because  it  was  against  the 
law.  So  Slim  Finnegan's  father  got  a  shanty  boat 
and  started  a  saloon  on  it  across  the  river,  where 
there  was  n't  prohibition ;  and  Slim  helped  tend  bar, 
and  then  other  bumboats  started,  and  pretty  soon 
I  guess  folks  got  tired  of  that  and  the  saloons  started 
up  again  in  Riverbank,  so  people  could  get  drunk 
without  having  to  hire  a  skiff  and  go  across  the 
river. 

So  three  or  four  or  five  men  made  up  their  minds 
they  would  stop  the  saloons  again,  and  they  started 
in  to  do  it.  Mamie  Little's  father  was  one  of  them, 
229 


SWATTY 

because  he  printed  the  newspaper  that  wanted  the 
saloons  closed;  so  one  night  three  or  four  of  the 
men's  houses  were  blown  up  with  gunpowder,  but 
the  fuse  went  out  on  the  other  keg,  so  it  did  n't  blow 
up  its  house.  But  three  of  them  were  blown  up.  That 
was  about  three  months  after  me  and  Swatty  and 
Bony  saw  Slim  Finnegan  steal  the  keg  of  powder; 
and  right  away  we  thought  of  that  and  that  Slim 
Finnegan  was  one  of  the  men  that  blew  up  the 
houses. 

Gee!  We  was  scared!  All  we  could  think  of  was 
that  now  Slim  Finnegan  would  come  round  and 
stab  us,  so  we  would  n't  tell  on  him.  One  whole  after- 
noon we  hid  in  the  old  box  stall  in  my  barn  and 
did  n't  dare  talk  above  a  whisper;  and  we  had  my 
target  rifle,  because  if  Slim  came  we  were  going  to 
sell  our  lives  dearly. 

But  that  was  afterward.  We  went  to  see  the 
blown-up  houses  first  —  right  after  breakfast  the 
morning  after  the  night  they  were  blown  up  —  and 
they  were  all  pretty  bad.  Everybody  said  it  was  a 
miracle  nobody  was  killed,  and  how  Mamie  Little 
and  her  folks  walked  across  the  bare  rafters  and  got 
out,  and  everything  like  that.  So  then  the  mayor 
offered  five  hundred  dollars  reward  and  the  governor 
offered  a  thousand  dollars  more ;  and  there  was  a  big 
meeting  downtown  one  night  and  everybody  gave 
money  to  hire  detectives  to  catch  the  dynamiters. 

There  were  lots  of  detectives  came  to  Riverbank ; 
I  guess  maybe  there  were  a  thousand.  Everybody 
230 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

said  it  would  be  just  a  little  while  before  the  dyna- 
miters were  all  caught  and  sent  to  prison ;  but  pretty 
soon  everybody  began  saying  the  detectives  were 
no  good,  and  that  Mr.  Murphy,  who  was  the  one 
the  committee  had  hired,  was  just  pretending  it  was 
worth  while  to  detect,  and  that  he  would  never  get 
the  dynamiters,  and  that  all  he  was  staying  in  River- 
bank  for  was  to  get  the  money  the  committee  paid 
him  every  week.  All  he  found  out,  I  guess,  was  that 
the  dynamite  was  gunpowder  and  that  some  of  it 
was  stole  from  the  powder  house  across  the  river 
and  some  from  the  powder  houses  up  the  river.  But 
me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  knew  who  stole  it.  That 's 
why  we  were  scared. 

And  you  bet  we  were  mighty  scared!  We  made  a 
fort  in  the  hayloft  of  my  barn,  with  loopholes  to 
shoot  my  target  rifle  through,  so  we  could  flee  to  it 
if  Slim  Finnegan  came  round,  and  pop  him  from 
behind  the  fort  before  he  could  stab  us.  Swatty  got 
us  to  do  that.  He  was  going  to  show  us  how  to  fix  the 
barn  stairs  with  each  step  on  a  hinge  so  when  we 
pulled  a  rope  the  steps  would  drop  and  make  a  slide, 
so  that  whenever  Slim  tried  to  come  up  the  steps  he 
would  get  just  part  way  and  then  slide  down  again; 
but  when  we  tried  to  pry  the  treads  of  the  steps  loose 
the  nails  were  rusted  and  the  treads  split;  so  we 
thought  we'd  better  not. 

We  got  up  a  signal  word  —  only  it  was  Swatty 
thought  of  it  —  so  that  when  any  of  us  saw  Slim 
we  could  say  it,  and  we'd  know  we  had  to  run  for 
231 


SWATTY 

shelter  to  our  fort.  The  word  was  Vamoose !  But  it 
was  too  long,  so  Swatty  shortened  it.  He  made  it 
Vam! 

We  did  everything  we  could  to  get  ready  not  to 
be  stabbed.  We  made  daggers  out  of  some  kitchen 
knives  I  got  in  my  kitchen,  and  Swatty  showed  us 
how  to  do  it  while  me  and  Bony  turned  the  grind- 
stone. We  sharpened  them  on  both  edges  and  made 
points  on  them  and  tied  string  round  the  handles 
in  loops,  so  we  could  hang  them  on  our  suspender 
buttons  and  let  them  hang  down  inside  our  pants. 
Swatty  showed  me  how  to  carry  my  target  rifle  stuck 
down  one  pants  leg,  too,  so  it  would  n't  be  visible.  It 
made  me  walk  stiff-legged,  like  I  was  lame,  but  Swatty 
said  that  was  a  good  thing  —  it  would  throw  Slim 
Finnegan  off  his  guard.  Swatty  showed  us  how  to 
stand  back  to  back  when  Slim  Finnegan  attacked 
us,  so  we  would  have  a  dagger  in  each  direction  and 
he  could  n't  stab  us  in  the  backs. 

Whenever  we  could  we  got  together  and  Swatty 
told  us  new  ways  to  keep  from  being  stabbed,  be- 
cause he  said  he  knew  a  feller  in  Derlingport  — 
where  he  had  visited  once  —  who  was  fixed  just  like 
we  were,  with  a  big  feller  after  him;  and  Swatty 
remembered  other  things  he  had  done.  He  did  n't 
remember  them  all  at  once,  but  every  day  he  re- 
membered a  new  one.  When  he  remembered  them 
we  did  them.  One  of  them  was  to  rub  our  knee  joints 
with  sewing-machine  oil,  so  they  would  be  limber 
and  we  could  run  like  a  deer  when  Slim  Finnegan 
232 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

took  after  us.  Before  he  got  through  Swatty  remem- 
bered a  lot  of  things  like  that.  We  did  them. 

Well,  after  a  while  I  guess  we  sort  of  forgot  about 
Slim  Finnegan,  because  he  did  n't  come  round  to 
stab  us.  Maybe  it  was  because  Swatty  could  n't 
remember  any  more  of  the  things  the  feller  in  Der- 
lingport  had  done,  and  maybe  it  was  because  school 
began  again.  We  sort  of  turned  the  fort  in  my  hay- 
loft into  a  dressing  room  for  a  circus.  Swatty  was 
ringmaster.  So  then  Bony's  birthday  started  to 
come  and  his  mother  thought  she'd  have  a  party 
for  him,  because  they  had  a  new  parlor  carpet  and 
had  had  the  dining-room  papered.  So  she  had  it. 

At  first  Bony  said  he  was  n't  going  to  his  party, 
because  there  would  be  girls  there  and  they  would 
want  to  play  kissing  games;  but  Swatty  said,  Aw! 
he  was  n't  afraid  to  kiss  all  the  girls  there  were  in 
the  world!  and  that  if  Bony  would  go  to  the  party 
he  would  go  too.  So  I  said  if  Bony  and  Swatty  would 
go  I  would  go.  I  said,  Aw!  I  bet  I  was  n't  afraid  to 
kiss  all  the  girls  in  the  world,  either!  only  I  bet  I 
would  n't  kiss  Mamie  Little  if  she  asked  me  a 
million  times,  because  she  was  mad  at  me.  So  we 
went  to  Bony's  party. 

It  was  a  pretty  good  party.  Right  at  first  it  was  n't 
much  because  the  girls  sat  on  one  side  of  the  room 
and  tried  to  keep  their  white  dresses  from  getting 
wrinkled,  and  the  boys  sat  on  the  other  side.  It 
would  n't  have  been  any  fun  at  all,  that  first  part, 
only  Swatty  had  brought  some  beans  in  his  pocket 
233 


SWATTY 

and  we  had  some  fun  shooting  them  at  the  girls 
with  our  thumbs.  Every  once  in  a  while  Bony's 
mother  would  come  in  from  the  kitchen  and  clap 
her  hands  and  say: 

"Come,  now!  We  must  all  have  a  good  time!  All 
you  boys  and  girls  think  of  a  game  and  play  it. 
Bony"  —  only  she  called  him  Harold  —  "I'm  sur- 
prised you  don't  start  a  game!" 

So  then  Bony  wished  he  had  n't  come  to  his 
party.  So  after  a  while  Bony's  mother  said  to  the 
cook: 

"Well,  Maggie,  we  'd  better  give  them  the  refresh- 
ments now,  instead  of  later;  they  won't  liven  up 
until  they  are  fed." 

We  went  into  the  dining-room  and  all  sat  round 
the  big  table,  and  we  began  to  have  a  good  time. 
Us  kids  would  get  up  and  sneak  round  and  steal  a 
girl's  cake  or  something,  and  she  would  holler  and 
be  mad;  and  then  we  started  in  to  pull  their  hair- 
bows,  and  maybe  their  hair  a  little,  and  they  would 
slap  at  us  and  scold  and  giggle.  They  pretended  they 
did  n't  like  it ;  but  they  did.  So  pretty  soon  some  of 
them  got  up  and  chased  us  round  the  table,  and 
after  the  ice  cream  it  turned  out  we  were  playing 
tag;  and  Bony's  mother  said: 

"Heaven  save  the  furniture!  But,  anyway,  I'm 
glad  they've  waked  up!" 

Well,  I  did  n't  pull  Mamie  Little's  hair,  or  any- 
thing. I  guess  I  wanted  to,  but  I  sort  of  did  n't  dare. 
All  she  did  was  to  make  a  face  at  me  once  across 

234 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

the  table,  and  when  I  threw  a  little  piece  of  cake  at 
her  she  brushed  it  off  her  dress  and  said : 

"I  consider  that  very  rude!" 

So  then  we  went  into  the  parlor  again  and  got  to 
playing  kissing  games  —  Copenhagen  and  post-office, 
and  games  like  that.  So  then  we  played  pillow.  I 
guess  the  girls  like  it  because  there  is  n't  so  much 
game  and  there  is  more  kissing,  and  I  guess  the  boys 
don't  care  because  by  the  time  you  get  to  playing 
pillow  they  're  used  to  it.  You  take  a  sofa  pillow  and 
drop  it  in  front  of  the  girl  you  want  to  kiss  and  drop 
on  your  knees,  and  she  drops  on  her  knees  and  then 
she  kisses  you.  Then  she  takes  the  pillow  and  drops 
it  in  front  of  the  fellow  she  wants  to  kiss  next,  and 
she  kneels  on  it,  and  she  kisses  him.  So  I  guess 
Kate  White  dropped  the  pillow  in  front  of  me  and 
kissed  me;  and  then  I  took  the  pillow  and  looked 
round  the  row  of  chairs. 

I  saw  Mamie  Little  and  she  looked  as  if  she  was 
trying  to  look  as  if  she  did  n't  want  me  to  drop  the 
pillow  in  front  of  her,  but  really  did  want  me  to.  I 
did  n't  know  what  to  do.  Toady  Williams  was  in  the 
next  chair  to  Mamie  Little.  I  guess  maybe  I  wanted 
Mamie  Little  to  kiss  me,  but  I  was  sort  of  scared  to 
put  the  pillow  in  front  of  her.  I  got  sort  of  hot.  So, 
all  of  a  sudden,  I  dropped  the  pillow  right  in  front  of 
her  and  plumped  down  on  my  knees.  Everybody 
laughed  and  clapped  their  hands,  except  Toady 
Williams. 

But  Mamie  Little  did  n't  plump  down  on  her 

235 


SWATTY 

knees  in  front  of  me.  She  stuck  her  chin  in  the  air 
and  said: 

"No;  thank  you." 

I  guess  I  got  hotter  than  I  ever  was  in  my  life.  I 
was  burning  hot.  And  I  guess  I  was  pretty  mad. 
I  got  up  and  held  the  pillow  by  one  corner. 

' '  All  right  for  you,  then ! "  I  said ;  and  all  I  thought 
of  was  to  make  her  sorry  for  making  me  look  silly 
before  the  whole  crowd.  "All  right  for  you!  I  know 
who  dynamited  your  house,  and  now  I  won't 
tell!" 

Well,  right  away  she  got  down  on  her  knees.  She 
took  the  pillow  from  me  and  got  down  on  her  knees 
on  it.  So  I  kneeled  down  on  it,  too,  and  she  let  me 
kiss  her  on  the  cheek.  It  was  the  softest  cheek  I  ever 
kissed,  I  guess.  So  then  she  got  up,  and  took  the  pil- 
low and  looked  around  the  circle  for  a  boy  to  drop  it 
in  front  of,  and  when  she  did  n't  drop  it  in  front  of 
Toady  Williams  the  very  first  thing,  I  felt  fine. 
Swatty  leaned  over  to  me  and  said: 

"Garsh!  Now  you  done  it!" 

"Well,"  I  said  back,  "I  got  a  right  to  tell  if  I 
want  to,  haven't  I?" 

"No,  you  hain't,"  Swatty  said.  "If  you  tell  then 
Slim  Finnegan  will  stab  the  whole  three  of  us." 

"Well,  let  him  stab ! "  I  said,  because  that  was  how 
I  felt  just  then,  because  Mamie  Little  had  not  put 
the  pillow  down  in  front  of  Toady  Williams  but  in 
front  of  Bony,  and  that  did  n't  mean  much,  because 
it  only  meant  that  she  wanted  Bony  to  have  it  next, 
236 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

because  he  would  give  it  to  Lucy.  So,  when  he  went  to 
kiss  Mamie  she  turned  her  head  and  he  hardly  got 
any  kiss  at  all,  and  she  had  let  me  kiss  her  fair  and 
solid.  So  I  felt  pretty  good.  I  felt  as  if  she  was  going 
to  be  my  girl  again.  And  I  guess  she  was,  because 
when  somebody  put  the  pillow  in  front  of  her  again, 
she  came  right  to  me  with  it,  and  that  time  it  was 
a  good  kiss  too.  I  felt  great ! 

When  us  boys  was  getting  our  hats,  when  the 
party  was  over,  Swatty  came  up  to  me. 

"If  you  tell  her  I'm  going  to  lick  you,"  he 
said. 

"All  right  — lick!"  I  said.  "I  ain't  afraid  of  your 
lickings.  Lick  all  you  want  to.  I  told  her  I  'd  tell  and 
you  nor  nobody  else  can't  make  me  a  liar!" 

So  Mamie  Little  waited  for  me  at  the  front  door, 
and  when  I  came  out  I  knew  she  had  waited  so  I 
could  walk  home  with  her,  and  I  did. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  we  are  n't  mad  any  more,"  she 
said  when  we  were  walking  along. 

"Ah!  who  was  mad?  I  was  n't  mad,"  I  said. 

"Well,  I  ain't  mad  now,"  she  said.  "Who  was  it 
blew  up  our  house?" 

"Oh,  somebody!"  I  said. 

We  walked  a  little  way  and  then  she  said: 

"Who  blew  up  our  house?" 

"Slim  Finnegan,"  I  said. 

"How  do  you  know  he  did?"  she  said. 

"Because  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  saw  him 
steal  the  powder  to  do  it  with,"  I  told  her.  "We  was 
237 


SWATTY 

over  in  Illinois  and  we  saw  him  steal  it  from  the 
powder  house  that's  over  there." 

So  we  talked  about  that  and  when  we  got  home  to 
her  house  she  told  me  to  come  up  on  the  porch,  and 
I  did;  and  then  she  opened  the  door  and  called  for 
her  father,  and  he  came  to  the  door. 

"Papa,  this  is  Georgie,"  she  said;  "and  he  knows 
who  blew  up  our  house." 

Well,  he  took  me  inside  the  house  and  asked  me  to 
tell  all  about  it,  and  I  told  him,  and  Mamie  sat  in  a 
chair  and  listened  to  me  tell  it.  When  he  had  asked 
me  everything  he  could  think  of  he  went  to  the  door 
with  me  and  said: 

"George,  you  are  a  fine  boy!" 

I  said: 

"Yes,  sir!"  and  then  I  said,  "Good-bye,  Mamie!" 

And  she  said : 

"I  don't  like  that  mean  old  Toady  Williams."  So 
I  went  home. 

That  evening  Mr.  Murphy,  the  detective,  came 
up  to  my  house  and  Mr.  Little  came  with  him ;  and 
Mr.  Murphy  asked  me  all  the  questions  Mr.  Little 
had  asked,  and  a  lot  more,  and  I  told  him  all  about 
Slim  Finnegan.  He  asked  where  Swatty  and  Bony 
lived  and  how  to  get  to  their  houses.  So  then  Mr. 
Murphy  said: 

"If  the  boy  is  telling  the  truth  this  may  be  more 
important  than  we  imagined.  I  have  thought  for 
some  time  that  the  reason  Slim  Finnegan  left  town 
was  because  he  knew  something  of  this  affair." 
238. 


SLIM  FINNEGAN 

So  I  guess  that  was  the  reason  Slim  Finnegan 
had  n't  come  around  to  stab  us  —  he  was  n't  in 
Riverbank.  I  guess  it  was  a  month  more  before  they 
found  him  down  in  Oklahoma  and  fetched  him  back 
to  Riverbank  because  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  had 
oathed  that  he  had  stolen  the  keg  of  powder.  Petty 
larceny  was  what  it  was  called.  That  was  what  they 
arrested  him  for. 

Well,  come  to  find  out,  Slim  Finnegan  had  n't 
blown  up  anything,  and  it  was  n't  even  his  keg  of 
powder  that  done  it.  He  had  stole  the  powder  to  load 
a  shotgun  with,  to  go  hunting,  and  he  showed  Mr. 
Murphy  the  dry  powder  keg,  with  most  of  the  pow- 
der in  it  yet.  So  he  was  n't  the  dynamiter,  after 
all. 

But  his  father  was.  Mr.  Murphy  gave  Slim  Finne- 
gan three  degrees  and  said  to  him,  "I  guess  you 
know  who  blew  up  the  houses  and  if  you  don't  tell 
I  '11  send  you  to  the  penitentiary  for  twenty  years," 
and  Slim  Finnegan  —  the  mean  sneak  —  told  that 
his  father  and  two  other  men  had  done  it,  and  they 
were  arrested  and  went  to  prison. 

So  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  talked  about  which 
of  us  ought  to  have  the  one-thousand-five-hundred- 
dollars  reward,  and  we  made  up  our  minds  that 
Swatty  ought  to  have  it  because  he  was  the  one  that 
went  back  and  saw  that  Slim  Finnegan  was  really 
stealing  a  keg  of  powder,  and  that  if  Swatty  did  n't 
get  it  I  ought  to  have  it,  because  I  was  the  one  that 
told  Mamie  Little,  and  that  if  I  did  n't  get  it  Mamie 

239 


SWATTY 

Little  ought  to  have  it,  because  if  it  had  n't  been 
for  her  I  never  would  have  told. 

But  none  of  us  got  it.  Mr.  Murphy  got  it.  The 
only  thing  Swatty  and  Bony  got  was  that  they 
did  n't  get  stabbed.  And  I  got  Mamie  Little  back  for 
my  secret  girl  again. 


XI 
"THIEF!  THIEF!" 

WHILE  Mamie  Little's  father's  house  was  getting 
fixed  up,  after  being  dynamited,  they  went  some- 
place else  to  live,  and  the  only  people  that  lived 
across  the  street  from  us  were  the  Burtons.  There 
were  n't  any  Burtons  to  play  with,  because  the  only 
children  they  had  was  Tom  Burton,  who  was  older 
than  my  sister  Fan,  and  that  summer  he  began 
taking  Fan  to  ride  with  the  dandy  horses  and  car- 
riage the  Burtons'  hired  man  took  care  of. 

The  Burtons'  hired  man's  name  was  Jimmy,  and 
everybody  called  him  that  except  Mrs.  Burton  — 
she  called  him  James.  I  guess  Jimmy  was  forty  years 
old.  Or  maybe  he  was  fifty,  or  thirty-five,  or  some- 
thing. He  was  thin  and  balder  than  hired  men  gen- 
erally are,  and  his  only  bad  habit  was  putting  angle 
worms  in  a  pickle  bottle  and  setting  the  bottle  in  the 
sun  to  dissolve  the  worms  into  angle- worm  oil  for  his 
rheumatism  in  the  winter;  but  summer  was  when 
the  worms  were,  so  he  had  to  get  a  lot  of  worms  in 
the  summer  to  last  through  the  winter. 

Well,  Jimmy  had  been  with  the  Burtons  six  years 
and  Annie,  our  hired  girl,  had  been  with  us  on  and 
off,  for  five  years.  I  guess  everybody  thought  she 
had  n't  any  other  name  at  all  until  one  evening 
when  Jimmy  came  over  and  knocked  at  the  back 
241 


SWATTY 

door  and  asked  Mother  if  Miss  Dornbacher  was 
home.  She  was  n't,  because  she  had  gone  to  the 
Evangelical  Lutheran  Church;  but  after  that  Jimmy 
used  to  come  over,  and  Annie  would  put  two  chairs 
out  in  the  yard  under  the  apple  tree  and  they  would 
sit  and  talk.  Or  Jimmy  would  talk.  He  would  talk 
and  talk  and  talk,  and  every  once  in  a  while  Annie 
would  say,  "Yes,"  and,  after  she  learned  it,  "No." 
So,  after  a  couple  of  years,  Jimmy  began  to  hold 
Annie's  hand  when  he  talked  to  her,  and  in  a  couple 
of  years  more  they  got  engaged.  I  guess  they  liked 
each  other. 

I  was  in  our  dining-room  one  day,  looking  to  see 
if  Annie  had  put  any  fresh  cookies  in  the  jar  in  the 
closet,  when  I  heard  my  mother  say,  "Oh,  Annie!" 
in  the  kitchen,  as  if  she  was  sorry  about  something. 
So  then  Annie  said: 

"I  bin  sorry  to  go  avay,  too,  ma'am,  but  it  is 
right  everybody  should  get  married  once  or  twice." 

"I  know,"  my  mother  said;  "but  I  don't  know 
what  I  will  ever  do  without  you,  Annie." 

So  then  Annie  cried,  and  there  were  no  cookies,  so 
I  went  out. 

Well,  it  was  like  this:  Jimmy  had  been  saving  his 
money  ever  since  Annie  came  to  our  house  and  now 
he  had  enough  to  get  married  on  and  buy  a  couple  of 
acres;  so  they  were  going  to  be  married,  and  he  was 
going  to  leave  the  Burtons  and  raise  garden  stuff 
and  peddle  it.  Annie  was  going  to  raise  chickens  and 
sell  eggs,  and  they  would  have  a  cow  and  sell  milk. 
242 


THIEF!  THIEF! 

So  now  I  come  to  the  story  part  of  the  story.  I  guess 
what  the  story  is  about  is  that  sometimes  it  is  a  good 
thing  for  a  fellow  to  have  a  girl,  because  if  Mamie 
Little  had  n't  been  my  girl  maybe  Jimmy  and 
Annie  would  never  have  been  married. 

There  were  two  parts  about  the  story.  One  was 
that  a  circus  was  coming  to  town  and  me  and  Swatty 
were  n't  going;  the  other  was  that  the  schoolhouse 
wore  out  and  they  built  a  new  one. 

The  night  before  the  circus  was  coming  there  was 
going  to  be  a  reception  in  the  dandy  big  new  school- 
house  to  raise  money  for  a  library.  Everybody  was 
going  to  go,  and  I  guess  everybody  old  enough  was 
going  to  take  his  girl.  Anyway  me  and  Swatty  and 
Bony  got  to  talking  about  taking  girls  to  parties  and 
receptions  and  things,  and  the  first  thing  you  know 
we  said  we  'd  do  it. 

I  guess  I  said  Swatty  was  afraid,  and  Swatty 
dared  me  back,  and  we  both  dared  Bony,  and  so  we 
would  n't  any  of  us  take  the  dare.  So  Bony  asked 
Lucy  and  she  said  she  'd  go  with  him  if  my  mother 
would  let  her.  When  Bony  told  me  I  did  n't  believe 
him,  but  I  asked  Lucy  and  she  said  Bony  had  asked 
her,  and  that  Mamie  Little  was  as  mad  as  mad  be- 
cause I  had  n't  asked  Mamie.  So  I  said: 

"Aw!  How  could  I  ask  her  when  I  hain't  seen  her 
yet?" 

"You  could,  too,  see  her,  if  you  wanted  to,"  Lucy 
said.  "You  could  see  her  every  minute  of  every  day, 
if  you  was  n't  a  'fraid-cat." 
243 


SWATTY 

"T  ain't  so.  I'm  not  a  'fraid-cat!"  I  said. 

"  'T  is  so,  and  you  are !  'Fraidie-cat !  You  ain't  going 
to  take  Mamie  Little,  and  you're  her  fellow!" 

"I  am,  too,  going  to  take  her!"  I  said  back. 

But  I  was  n't  going  to  take  Mamie  Little.  I 
would  n't  have  asked  her  for  a  million  dollars.  But 
I  did  n't  have  to  ask  her.  I  met  her  that  afternoon. 
She  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  street  and  I  just 
went  along  as  if  I  did  n't  see  her.  So  she  called  across: 

' '  Oo-oo !  Georgie !  You  know ! ' ' 

"Aw!  What  do  I  know?"  I  asked  back. 

"You  know!  The  reception!"  she  said.  Well,  I  just 
went  along  and  did  n't  say  anything.  But  that  eve- 
ning when  I  got  home  my  mother  said : 

"I  hear  you  are  getting  to  be  quite  a  beau, 
Georgie." 

I  did  n't  know  what  she  meant,  so  I  said,  "Huh?" 

"Mrs.  Little  called  this  afternoon,"  my  mother 
said,  "and  she  told  me  you  had  asked  Mamie  Little 
to  go  to  the  new  school  reception  with  you.  That 's 
very  nice." 

I  did  n't  say  anything.  It  was  Lucy,  and  I  was 
mighty  mad  at  her  for  telling  Mamie  Little  I  was 
going  to  take  her;  but  I  was  kind  of  glad,  too.  I 
thought,  "Well,  anyway,  Swatty  and  Bony  are 
going  to  take  girls." 

The  reception  was  the  next  night,  so  when  Swatty 

and  Bony  came  over  the  next  afternoon  I  told  them 

I  was  going  to  take  Mamie  Little,  and  Swatty  said 

that  was  right,  everybody  was  going  to  take  a  girl. 

244 


THIEF!  THIEF! 

So  T  asked  him  who  he  was  going  to  take,  because  he 
had  never  let  on  he  had  a  girl. 

"Garsh!"  he  said,  "I  ain't  going  to  take  any 
girl!" 

That  made  me  sick.  Me  and  Bony  had  stood  right 
up  like  men  and  had  asked  girls,  and  Swatty  had 
promised  he  would  take  one,  and  now  he  was  back- 
ing out.  So  I  said: 

"Aw!  You  said  you  would  take  one!" 

"Well,  don't  I  know  it?"  Swatty  said.  "Of  course 
I  said  I  would,  but  I  forgot." 

"What  did  you  forget?"  I  asked. 

"I  forgot  I  was  married,"  Swatty  said. 

We  were  all  sitting  under  our  apple  tree,  out  in  the 
yard,  and  it  was  a  good  thing  we  were  not  sitting  on 
a  roof,  because  I  would  have  fell  off  and  killed  my- 
self, I  was  so  surprised. 

"Aw!  When  was  you  married?"  I  said. 

"That  time  I  went  to  Derlingport  to  visit  my 
uncle,"  Swatty  said. 

"Aw!  Who  did  you  marry?" 

"A  girl,"  he  said. 

"Well,  if  you  married  a  girl  why  did  n't  you  ever 
tell  us  about  it  before?" 

"Garsh!  I  can't  remember  everything  that  hap- 
pened when  I  was  in  Derlingport,  can  I?  Mebbe  I 
forgot  I  was  married." 

"Aw,  pshaw!"  I  said.  "What  did  you  want  to  go 
and  get  married  for,  Swatty?" 

"Well,  I  couldn't  help  it,  could  I?"  he  asked. 

245 


SWATTY 

"You  don't  think  I'd  go  and  get  married  if  I  could 
help  it,  do  you?  My  —  my  uncle  made  me." 

"  Why  did  he  make  you?"  asked  Bony. 

"Because  my  aunt  had  a  felon  on  her  finger.  She 
had  a  felon  on  her  finger  and  it  almost  killed  her  to 
darn  stockings,  so  my  uncle  said  if  I  wore  any  more 
holes  in  my  stockings  I  'd  have  to  get  a  wife  of  my 
own  to  darn  them." 

So  then  we  asked  Swatty  what  his  wife  was  like, 
and  he  told  us  a  lot  about  her.  She  was  an  Indian 
princess,  and  when  you  first  looked  at  her  she  looked 
all  right,  but  pretty  soon  you  saw  she  had  a  toma- 
hawk in  her  belt  and  the  edge  of  it  was  all  dried  over 
with  blood,  because  she  had  had  eight  other  hus- 
bands before  Swatty,  and  she  had  got  mad  at  all  of 
them  and  had  killed  them  and  scalped  them.  She 
had  an  album  on  her  parlor  table,  but  instead  of 
photographs  in  it  she  had  the  scalps  of  her  husbands. 

Swatty  said  there  was  just  room  in  the  scalp  al- 
bum for  one  more  scalp,  and  that  every  once  in  a 
while  when  he  was  at  her  house  having  his  stock- 
ings darned  she  would  look  at  his  head  and  kind 
of  sigh. 

Well,  we  talked  it  over,  and  Swatty  made  us 
promise  never  to  tell  any  one  he  had  been  married, 
because  if  his  mother  knew  it  she  would  take  him 
out  in  the  stable  and  wale  him  with  a  strap.  He  said 
that  was  why  he  did  n't  dare  take  any  girl  to  the  new 
school  reception,  because  if  his  wife  heard  of  it  she 
would  be  jealous  and  she  would  come  down  and 
246 


THIEF!  THIEF! 

tomahawk  him  and  maybe  kill  him.  And  if  she 
did  n't  kill  him  his  mother  would  notice  his  scalp 
was  gone,  the  next  time  she  washed  his  head,  and 
would  wale  him  anyway. 

Well,  my  mother  helped  me  dress  for  the  recep- 
tion, and  then  she  gave  me  twenty  cents  to  spend. 
I  had  five  cents  of  my  own  she  did  n't  know  about. 
So  that  was  all  right. 

It  was  dark  already.  I  went  along,  kind  of  drag- 
ging my  hand  along  the  pickets  of  the  fences  and 
wishing  I  was  dead  or  something,  and  it  got  darker 
and  darker.  The  new  house  Mamie  Little  lived  in 
was  away  out  over  Grimes's  Hill,  and  when  I  got  to 
the  door  Mr.  Little  and  Mrs.  Little  and  Mamie  were 
just  getting  ready  to  come  out,  and  Mr.  Little  said: 

"Well!  Here  is  our  cavalier!" 

Mamie  and  me  walked  in  front,  and  it  was  n't  as 
bad  as  I  thought  it  would  be,  but  I  kept  feeling  sort 
of  chilly  when  I  thought  of  going  into  the  reception 
with  Mamie.  But  before  we  got  to  the  schoolhouse 
Mamie  said  to  me: 

"Say,  Georgie!  Don't  you  want  a  ticket  for  the 
circus?" 

I  said  aw,  I  did  n't  want  to  take  her  ticket  away 
from  her;  but  she  said  she  had  one  too,  because  her 
father  was  editor  of  the  paper  and  he  got  them  com- 
plimentary. 

.  As  soon  as  we  got  to  the  reception  Mrs.  Little 
said:  "Now,  you  children  run  along  and  enjoy 
yourselves." 

247 


SWATTY 

Mamie  said,  right  away:  "Shall  we  get  some  ice 
cream  first?" 

I  said  that  would  be  all  right,  because  mebbe  peo- 
ple would  n't  notice  I  was  with  Mamie  Little  and 
think  I  brought  her.  So  we  sat  down  at  a  table 
and  a  girl  took  our  order  and  brought  us  straw- 
berry and  vanilla  —  big  dishes  —  and  passed  us  the 
cake  and  we  took  two  pieces  of  cake  Apiece. 

That  was  all  right;  but  when  we  were  eating 
Swatty  and  Bony  came  past  and  said : ' '  Ho,  Georgie ! 
He  brought  a  girl!" 

That  was  all  right  for  Bony!  He  had  sneaked  out 
of  bringing  a  girl,  and  that  was  mighty  mean,  after 
he  had  gone  and  got  me  to  bring  one.  I  said  I  'd  fix 
him  when  I  got  him,  and  he  was  scared,  too !  So  then 
we  ate  our  ice  cream  slow,  to  make  it  last  longer, 
and  I  forgot  how  mean  I  felt  because  I  had  brought 
a  girl,  when  whoever  was  opposite  us  got  through 
and  asked  how  much  he  owed. 

"Let  me  see!"  the  girl  said.  "Two  ice  creams  at 
ten  cents  is  twenty  cents,  and  two  pieces  of  cake. 
That  makes  thirty  cents." 

Well,  I  almost  rammed  my  spoon  down  my 
throat!  I  had  never  thought" about  the  cake  being 
extra,  and  we  had  had  four  pieces,  and  that  made 
twenty  cents,  and  the  ice  cream  was  twenty  cents 
so  it  made  forty  cents  all  together,  and  twenty-five 
cents  was  all  the  money  I  had !  I  was  so  scared  my 
throat  sort  of  closed  up  on  me.  I  guess  my  face  got  as 
red  as  fire,  and  I  leaned  forward  and  took  a  big  bite 
248 


THIEF!  THIEF! 

of  cake,  so  Mamie  Little  would  n't  see  how  red  my 
face  was,  and  then  I  choked  on  the  cake!  I  guess  I 
never  was  so  choked  in  my  life.  And  I  put  a  paper 
napkin  up  to  my  face  and  went  out  into  the  hall. 

I  guess  Mamie  Little  sat  there  at  the  table;  I  don't 
know.  As  soon  as  I  was  out  in  the  hall  I  knew  what  I 
was  going  to  do.  I  squeezed  in  among  the  people  and 
got  to  the  door  and  skipped. 

As  soon  as  I  got  home  my  father  asked  me  did  I 
take  Mamie  Little  home ;  so  I  did  n't  say  anything. 
I  went  right  upstairs  to  bed.  After  while  my  father 
came  up' and  asked  me  again  if  I  had  gone  home  with 
Mamie  Little,  so  I  said  I  hadn't;  I  said  I  didn't 
want  to.  I  said  her  folks  could  take  her  home  if  they 
wanted  to.  So  Father  said  he  had  a  mind  to  lick  me ; 
but  he  did  n't.  So  I  guess  Mamie  Little  got  home  all 
right.  It  would  n't  have  helped  her  home  if  my  father 
had  licked  me,  but  that 's  the  way  fathers  are. 
r  The  next  morning,  about  four  o'clock,  me  and 
Swatty  and  Bony  went  down  to  see  the  circus  un- 
load. We  saw  it.  And  then  we  went  up  to  the  circus 
grounds  and  saw  the  tent  go  up  and  everything.  So 
Bony  said: 

"Aw!  Don't  you  wish  you  was  going  to  the 
circus?" 

So  I  said  he  need  n't  be  so  smart,  that  I  was  going, 
because  I  had  a  ticket.  So  then  I  remembered  that  I 
had  the  twenty  cents  my  mother  had  given  me  to 
buy  the  ice  cream  with,  only  I  had  n't  spent  it  be- 
cause I  came  away  so  quick.  So  I  told  Swatty  he 
249 


SWATTY 

could  have  the  ticket,  because  I  had  twenty-five 
cents  to  get  into  the  circus  with.  So  Swatty  was 
glad.  He  said  he'd  be  my  Dutch  uncle  as  long  as  I 
lived,  and  that  the  first  dollar  he  saw  rolling  uphill 
he  'd  pay  me  back,  if  he  could  catch  it. 

Well,  we  walked  downtown  with  the  parade  and 
saw  it,  and  walked  back  to  the  circus  grounds  with 
it.  Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  was  the  first  to  go  into 
the  tent.  We  were  right  up  against  the  rope  when 
the  ticket  taker  let  it  down.  So  we  hurried  right 
through,  because  a  lot  of  folks  was  pushing  behind 
us.  The  ticket  taker  yelled  something  at  us,  but  I 
did  n't  hear  what  it  was  and  we  scooted  for  the 
menagerie  tent. 

When  we  were  looking  at  the  ostriches  in  their 
cage  Swatty  got  close  beside  me  and  said:  "Lookee 
here!" 

I  I  looked  down,  and  he  had  his  ticket  in  his  hand 
yet,  because  that  was  why  the  ticket  taker  had 
yelled  at  us.  Swatty  had  sneaked  in  without  giving 
his  ticket. 

"What  did  you  do  that  for?"  I  said. 

"Because  I'm  hungry,"  he  said. 

"You  can't  eat  your  ticket,"  I  said. 

"You  wait  and  you'll  see,"  he  said,  so  then  we 
went  into  the  big  tent  and  we  climbed  up  to  the  top 
row.  When  we  poked  our  heads  out  we  could  see 
right  down  where  the  ticket  taker  was  taking  tickets 
and  all  the  people  were  crowding  to  get  in.  Right 
down  below  us  on  the  ground  a  bum,  or  tent  man, 
250 


THIEF!  THIEF! 

was  asleep  on  his  face  with  his  arm  under  his  head. 
His  coat  was  beside  him.  He  was  breathing  hard. 

So  then  Swatty  leaned  out  as  far  as  he  could  and 
waved  the  ticket  he  had,  and  called  out  who  wanted 
to  buy  a  ticket  for  a  quarter.  That  was  just  like 
Swatty  anyhow.  He  was  pretty  slick.  So  pretty  soon 
a  man  said  he'd  buy  the  ticket,  and  he  tossed  a 
quarter  up  to  Swatty.  With  a  quarter  we  could  get 
enough  peanuts  to  keep  alive  until  supper  time. 

Me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  was  just  going  to  draw 
our  heads  in  when  we  saw  Jimmy  and  Annie.  I  was 
going  to  yell  at  them  when  I  saw  something  that 
made  me  forget  to  yell.  Swatty  saw  it,  too. 

There  was  a  man  standing  by  the  ropes  that  made 
the  narrow  place  people  had  to  go  through,  but  he 
was  outside  of  the  ropes  on  our  side,  and  just  when 
Jimmy  came  opposite  him  and  got  a  step  past  him 
his  hand  went  out  like  a  flash  and  something  dropped 
on  the  ground  and  the  bum  slid  out  his  hand  and 
grabbed  what  had  dropped,  and  slid  it  under  the 
coat  and  went  on  pretending  he  was  asleep.  The 
man  by  the  ropes  had  picked  Jimmy's  wallet  out  of 
his  pocket. 

Well,  I  did  n't  know  it,  but  Jimmy  had  all  the 
money  he  was  going  to  buy  a  farm  with  in  that 
wallet.  It  was  circus  day,  and  he  did  n't  dare  leave 
it  at  home,  because  of  thieves;  so  he  brought  it  with 
him. 

I  did  n't  think  of  anything  to  do,  and  neither  did 
Bony,  but  Swatty  did.  He  looked  down,  and  then 

251 


SWATTY 

slid  one  leg  and  then  the  other  over  the  wall  of  the 
tent  and  hung  there  a  second  and  looked  down.  He 
hand-over-handed  a  reach  or  two  and  then  gave 
himself  a  sort  of  push  and  let  go.  He  came  down 
right  on  the  bum's  head,  straddle  of  his  neck,  and 
yelled:  "Police!  Police!"  Only  he  yelled  it  "Porlice! 
Porlice!"  like  he  always  says  it.  I  guess  the  bum 
was  surprised,  but  he  reached  up  and  grabbed 
Swatty. 

It  was  n't  a  fair  fight,  Swatty  against  a  man,  but 
it  was  a  good  one  while  it  lasted.  Everybody  on  the 
top  seats  stuck  their  heads  out  and  yelled,  and 
everybody  down  where  Swatty  was  came  running. 
One  of  the  town  cops  was  first  —  the  cross-eyed  one 
—  and  he  leveled  a  lick  at  the  bum  with  his  club  and 
caught  Swatty  across  his  breeches,  and  Swatty 
yelled  and  let  go  of  the  bum.  He  could  fight  one  bum 
but  he  could  n't  fight  a  cross-eyed  policeman  with 
a  club,  too. 

The  minute  the  bum  got  loose  he  dived  under  the 
tent.  We  saw  him  scutter  along  under  the  seats,  and 
then  we  saw  him  come  out  away  down  the  side  of 
the  tent  and  scoot.  The  cross-eyed  cop  started  after 
him,  but  he  never  got  him. 

Swatty  did  n't  run.  He  just  stood  on  the  bum's 
coat,  with  his  feet  spread  out,  and  in  a  minute 
Jimmy  and  a  lot  of  folks  were  crowded  around 
him.  Then  he  lifted  up  the  coat.  We  could  see  it  all. 
Under  the  coat  was  Jimmy's  wallet  and  about  six 
more.  Jimmy  just  dropped  on  his  wallet  and  hugged 
252 


THIEF!  THIEF! 

it.  He  sort  of  blubbered  and  did  n't  know  what  to 
do,  so  he  kissed  Swatty,  and  Swatty  hit  out  at  him 
and  hit  him  in  the  chest. 

By  that  time  a  circus  man  in  uniform  had  come 
up.  He  had  a  big  hickory  club,  peeled,  and  he  pushed 
into  the  crowd.  Behind  him  were  four  or  five  more 
circus  men,  but  they  had  tent  stakes. 

"What's  this  row?"  he  asked. 

Somebody  started  to  tell  him.  The  man  that  took 
the  wallet  from  Jimmy  was  right  there,  and  he 
turned  away.  So  I  shouted  out: 

"Hey,  mister!  there's  the  man  that  took  it." 

The  circus  man  looked  around  and  the  thief 
started  to  hurry.  He  did  n't  have  a  chance  to  hurry 
much.  The  circus  man  made  one  jump  for  him  and 
caught  him  by  the  collar  and  gave  one  jerk,  and  the 
thief's  coat  and  vest  came  off  and  his  shirt  ripped 
right  off  him.  The  other  circus  men  were  on  him. 
If  it  had  been  me  it  would  have  killed  me,  but  I  guess 
he  was  tough. 

When  I  turned  around  Mr.  Little  was  standing 
right  back  of  me.  He  had  come  up  to  see  what  it  all 
was,  so  he  could  put  it  in  his  paper.  When  he  saw  it 
was  me  that  had  yelled,  he  said : 

"Why,  hello,  it's  our  gallant  cavalier!  These  hard 
seats  are  no  place  for  a  lady's  man;  come  on  over  in 
the  reserved  seats." 

"I  can't,"  I  said,  "I've  got  to  wait  for  Swatty." 

He  did  n't  know  who  Swatty  was,  so  I  told  him. 
So  when  Swatty  came  in  we  went  over  into  the  re- 
?53 


SWATTY 

served  seats,  right  in  front  of  the  middle  ring.  So 
Mr.  Little  asked  Swatty  all  about  it,  and  Swatty 
told  him,  and  Mr.  Little  wrote  it  down  and  went 
downtown  to  his  paper  with  it.  He  told  Mrs.  Little 
to  take  good  care  of  the  three  heroes.  He  meant  me 
and  Swatty  and  Bony. 

So  Jimmy  and  Annie  got  married.  All  Mamie 
Little  ever  said  about  my  going  home  was : 

"I  guess  you  think  you  were  pretty  smart,  going 
home  and  letting  Papa  take  me  home  and  pay  for 
the  ice  cream!" 

But  that  did  n't  hurt  me  any.  Girls  are  always 
saying  things  like  that. 


XII 

THE  RED  AVENGERS 

WELL,  vacation  got  over,  and  school  started  again, 
and  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  got  promoted  into 
the  A  Class  in  Miss  Carter's  room,  and  so  did  Mamie 
Little  and  Scratch-Cat.  Lucy  got  promoted  into 
the  B  Class  in  Miss  Carter's  room,  and  she  hated 
Miss  Carter.  I  guess  the  reason  was  because  Miss 
Carter  got  in  love  with  Herb  Schwartz  when  Fan 
was  mad  at  him. 

Anyway  Miss  Carter  heard  Lucy  tell  somebody 
that  if  Fan  wanted  Herb  Miss  Carter  would  never 
have  got  him,  and  that  anybody  could  catch  a 
second-hand  fellow  that  a  body  had  thrown  away, 
so  Miss  Carter  and  Lucy  did  n't  like  each  other. 
But  I  guess  it  was  Lucy's  fault,  because  I  always 
liked  Miss  Carter  all  right.  Most  always. 

So  school  started  again.  Professor  Martin  came 
back  with  only  a  limp  in  his  leg  and  Herb  Schwartz 
stopped  being  a  professor  and  was  in  Judge  Hannan's 
law  office  all  the  time.  He  began  smoking  a  curved 
pipe  and  wearing  spectacles  and  his  hair  pompa- 
dour, because  he  would  pretty  soon  be  a  lawyer,  and 
he  kept  on  going  with  Miss  Carter,  but  I  did  n't 
care,  because  Fan  had  stopped  dying  of  love.  She 
was  going  with  Tom  Burton. 

We  liked  Tom  Burton  good  enough  —  me  and 

255 


SWATTY 

Swatty  and  Bony  did  —  until  the  time  Dad  Veek's 
barn  burned,  but  after  that  we  did  n't.  We  had  it  in 
for  him  after  that. 

I  guess  old  Dad  Veek  was  a  cabinet  maker  or 
something.  Anyway,  he  used  to  work  in  his  barn 
with  a  saw  and  a  plane  and  he  made  a  lot  of  shav- 
ings. His  barn  was  level,  but  to  make  it  level  it  had 
to  be  up  on  posts  at  the  hind  end  because  it  was  on 
a  side  hill,  and  that  made  a  kind  of  cave  under  it, 
and  sometimes  me  and  Bony  and  Swatty,  when  we 
got  tired  playing  in  the  creek,  or  it  was  raining,  or 
we  got  cold  skating,  would  go  up  there  and  maybe 
smoke  corn  silk  or  maybe  just  talk.  So  we  got  all 
the  shavings  old  Dad  Veek  swept  out  of  his  barn, 
and  we  made  a  kind  of  nest  under  the  barn,  and  we 
called  it  that  —  the  Nest. 

Dad  Veek  did  not  like  to  have  us  under  his  barn, 
because  when  we  smoked  corn  silk  the  smoke  would 
go  up  between  the  boards  of  the  floor  and  he  would 
come  out  and  chase  us.  He  did  n't  like  us  much, 
anyway,  [or  any  boys,  because  there  were  grape- 
vines between  his  barn  and  his  house  and  he  thought 
maybe  when  we  thought  he  was  n't  around  we 
crawled  through  the  fence  and  took  some  grapes. 
And  we  did.  But  only  when  they  were  ripe  and  we 
happened  to  be  over  there. 

So  one  night  his  barn  burned  down. 

I  guess  that  don't  sound  like  much,  but  it  was  a 
good  deal  more  than  it  sounds  like.  You  don't  know 
about  Toady  Williams  and  the  Red  Avengers  and 
256 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

the  fire  insurance  inspector  yet.  The  fire  insurance 
inspector  was  a  man  who  came  over  from  Chicago 
and  said  old  Dad  Veek  had  set  the  barn  afire  to  get 
the  insurance  money,  and  said  he  guessed  he  would 
put  old  Dad  Veek  in  jail  for  it,  because  there  was  too 
much  of  that  sort  of  thing  just  now,  and  it  was  time 
to  learn  somebody  a  lesson.  And  I  guess  nobody 
would  have  cared  much  if  it  had  n't  been  for  Mrs. 
old  Dad  Veek. 

The  reason  my  mother  felt  sorry  for  Mrs.  old 
Dad  Veek  was  because  when  my  mother  was  a  little 
girl  Mrs.  old  Dad  Veek's  name  was  Tilly,  and  she 
worked  for  my  mother's  mother,  and  now  she  was  a 
dear  old  lady  and  it  was  too  bad  her  husband  was 
going  to  jail.  So  she  thought  somebody  ought  to 
bestir  themselves. 

Well,  while  my  mother  and  the  Ladies'  Aid  were 
bestirring  themselves  me  and  Bony  and  Swatty  and 
Toady  Williams  were  out  in  our  barn,  and  I  felt 
pretty  bad,  because  it  was  tough  to  have  my  mother 
bestirring  herself  about  that  barn  fire  when  the 
chances  were  that  I  would  be  one  she  would  bestir 
into  jail  if  she  kept  old  Dad  Veek  out.  Now  you 
know  that  much,  you  can  see  why  we  felt  pretty  sick 
out  there  in  my  barn. 

It  was  winter  when  old  Dad  Veek's  barn  burned 
down,  and  it  was  about  nine  o'clock  at  night.  I  was 
going  to  bed  because  I  had  been  skating  all  day. 
I  wore  boots  to  skate  in,  like  all  the  fellows,  and  my 
boots  kind  of  wrinkled  around  the  ankles  and  they 
257 


SWATTYj 

rubbed  my  ankles  until  they  were  raw.  So  about 
eight  o'clock  I  said,  "Aw,  come  on,  Swatty !  Let's  go 
home!"  but  he  would  n't. 

"Well,  if  you  won't  go  home  with  me  I'm  going 
up  to  the  Nest  and  I'll  wait  for  you  up  there,"  I 
said. 

So  then  Toady  came  up,  and  he  asked  where  I 
was  going  and  I  told  him  I  was  going  to  the  Nest, 
and  he  said  he  was  going  to  skate  some  more,  but 
Swatty  and  Bony  said,  "All  right,  we'll  go  up  with 
you  awhile."  They  didn't  take  off  their  skates. 
They  walked  up  the  hill  to  the  barn  on  their  skates 
and  we  sat  awhile  in  the  Nest  under  old  Dad  Veek's 
barn  and  smoked  some  corn-silk  cigarettes.  Then 
Swatty  and  Bony  wanted  to  skate  some  more,  and 
they  did  and  after  a  while  I  went  home.  Gee!  but 
there  was  a  raw  spot  on  my  ankle  when  I  got  my 
boot  off !  I  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  my  bed  looking 
at  it,  about  nine  o'clock,  when  the  fire-house  bell 
rang.  Right  away  my  mother  came  into  my  room 
and  said: 

"George,  there  is  a  fire  across  the  Square,  and  I 
think  it  is  Mr.  Veek's  barn.  You  can  go  if  you  want 
to." 

I  hid  my  raw  ankle,  because  if  my  mother  knew  it 
was  so  bad  she  would  n't  let  me  skate  any  more  until 
it  got  well,  and  I  pulled  on  my  boot  and  went  to  the 
fire. 

There  was  a  pretty  big  crowd  there  already  and 
the  barn  was  burning  bully.  I  found  Swatty  first  and 
258 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

then  we  found  Bony,  and  we  watched  until  the  fire 
burned  out,  and  then  we  went  home. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  when  I  got  up  I 
told  my  mother  I  had  a  headache,  like  I  always  told 
her  Sunday  mornings;  but  I  had  to  go  to  Sunday 
school  just  the  same.  After  dinner  I  went  over  to  the 
ruins,  and  Swatty  and  Bony  and  Toady  and  a  lot  of 
folks  were  there.  It  was  good  to  see  and  smell.  When 
we  got  tired  we  went  back  to  my  yard,  and  it  was 
too  cold  to  go  into  the  barn,  so  we  went  up  to  my 
room.  As  soon  as  the  door  was  shut  Swatty  sat  down 
on  the  edge  of  my  bed  and  said : 

"Well,  men,  the  Red  Avengers  have  been  true  to 
their  oath!  The  enemy's  property  lies  in  ruins!" 

You  see  it  was  like  this:  Me  and  Swatty  and 
Toady  and  Bony  were  the  Red  Avengers.  Maybe 
you  never  read  the  book  —  "The  Red  Avengers,  or 
The  Boy  Heroes  of  the  Trail"  —  but  it  is  a  bully 
book.  It 's  a  dime  lib'ry,  and  if  it  had  n't  been  for 
Toady  we  would  never  have  had  it.  There  was  one 
thing  about  Toady  that  was  pretty  good  —  he  had 
lots  of  books.  Dime  lib'ry  books.  He  got  the  new  ones 
as  fast  as  they  were  printed,  and  he  read  them  be- 
hind his  geography  at  school,  and  it  was  because  he 
had  them  that  we  got  to  read  "The  Red  Avengers." 

The  Chief  of  the  Red  Avengers  was  a  boy  named 
Dick,  and  when  he  was  a  young  and  tender  nursling 
his  fond  parents  took  him  out  West  and  they  started 
a  ranch  that  covered  almost  a  whole  state.  They  had 
millions  of  cattle,  but  a  lot  of  Mexicans  came  and 
259 


SWATTY 

burned  the  ranch  and  Dick's  parents  were  burned  to 
death  and  Dick  only  escaped  by  creeping  into  the 
chaparral  and  hiding  until  he  grew  up  into  a  sturdy 
youthhood.  So  then  the  Mexicans  had  divided  up 
the  ranch  and  had  built  houses  and  barns  and  things, 
and  when  Dick  asked  for  the  ranch  back  they 
laughed  at  him.  So  he  got  together  a  lot  of  true  and 
faithful  youths  and  started  the  Red  Avengers  of  the 
Trail  and  whenever  they  came  to  one  of  the  Mexican 
houses  or  barns  they  burned  it  down.  Whenever 
anybody  did  anything  mean  to  anybody  in  the  band 
of  the  Red  Avengers,  Dick  wrote  a  note  saying  the 
mean  person's  house  would  be  burned  at  a  certain 
minute,  and  the  note  would  appear  mysteriously  on 
the  door  of  the  house.  And  the  house  burned  down 
just  as  the  Red  Avengers  said  it  would,  and  right  on 
the  minute. 

So  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  we  started  a  Red 
Avengers  band.  We  swore  a  solemn  oath  never  to 
divulge  the  secrets  of  the  band  or  to  tell  what  any 
of  us  did,  and  to  follow  the  orders  of  the  Chief, 
whate'er  might'betide.  We  had  an  election  for  Chief, 
and  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  each  got  one  vote,  so 
we  made  Swatty  the  Chief.  Swatty  made  us  make 
him.  So  I  was  elected  Secretary  and  Bony  was  elected 
Treasurer.  The  Secretary  had  to  write  the  vengeance 
warnings  and  keep  track  of  them  in  a  memorandum 
book,  so  we  would  n't  forget  who  we  were  going  to 
be  revenged  on.  The  Treasurer  did  n't  have  anything 
to  do.  It  was  an  easy  job. 
260 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

We  did  all  that  one  day  out  in'our  barn,  and,  just 
when  we  had  the  Red  Avengers  all  fixed  up,  in  came 
Toady.  He  wanted  the  dime  lib'ry  back. 

"Aw!  come  on,  Toady!"  Swatty  said.  "Let  us 
keep  it!  You  don't  want  it!" 

"Yes,  I  want  it,"  said  Toady. 

"All  right  for  you,  then,  Toady!"  Swatty  said. 
"I  was  going  to  tell  you  something,  but  if  you're 
going  to  be  that  mean  I  won't." 

"What  was  it?"  he  asked. 

"  It  's  all  right  what  it  was ! "  said  Swatty.  "You  '11 
never  know!  Think  we'd  tell  you  when  you  want 
your  old  dime  lib'ry  back?  We  won't  ever  tell  him, 
will  we,  George?  Will  we,  Bony?" 

So  we  said  no,  we  would  n't. 

So  then  Toady  looked  at  us  and  his  eyes  popped 
out;  but  Swatty  threw  "The  Red  Avengers"  book 
at  him. 

"Take  it!"  he  said.  "We  don't  want  it  anyway. 
We  know  everything  that's  in  it  and  we  don't  need 
it.  Only,  if  your  house  burns  down  you'll  know  why. 
Garsh !  here  we  were  all  ready  to  make  you  one  of 
the  band,  and  give  you  the  oath,  and  elect  you  — 
What  were  we  going  to  elect  him,  George?" 

"Librarian,"  I  said. 

"Yah!"  said  Swatty,  as  if  Toady  made  him  sick. 
"That's  the  kind  of  a  fellow  you  are!" 

So  Toady  did  n't  know  what  to  do.  He  picked  up 
the  dime  lib'ry  and  stood  looking.  So  Swatty  did  n't 
pay  any  attention  to  him.  He  said  to  me: 
261 


SWATTY 

"Seckertary,  write  in  the  Book  of  Doom  that  the 
first  house  the  Red  Avengers  will  burn  down  will  be 
Toady  Williams's  house,  because  he's  a  stingy-cat 
and  took  his  torn,  old,  no-good  dime  lib'ry  away 
from  us!" 

Toady  looked  awhile.  Then  he  said: 

"Oh,  I  did  n't  know  you  were  going  to  make  me  a 
librarian.  I  did  n't  know  you  were  going  to  do  that. 
What  do  I  have  to  do  if  I'm  Librarian?" 

"Why,  you  keep  charge  of  the  library,"  I  said. 
11  You  take  an  oath  to  keep  and  preserve  it,  in  that 
starch  box  over  there." 

"And  then  you  can  be  one  of  the  band  and  take 
the  oath,  and  if  anybody  is  mean  to  you  we'll  burn 
their  houses  down,"  said  Swatty.  So  Toady  said  all 
right,  he  would  be  Librarian,  and  we  gave  him  the 
oath,  and  he  put  "The  Red  Avengers"  in  the  starch 
box,  and  we  held  a  council.  We  talked  about  whose 
houses  the  Red  Avengers  ought  to  burn  down  first. 

I  guess  we  all  thought  about  Miss  Carter  first, 
because  she  had  kept  us  in  school  after  hours  that 
very  afternoon;  but  she  lived  in  a  boarding  house 
and  we  could  n't  burn  down  her  room  without  burn- 
ing down  the  rest  of  the  house,  so  we  thought  we 
would  just  record  her  in  the  book  and  wait  until  she 
got  married  sometime,  and  had  a  house  of  her  own, 
and  then  burn  that  down.  We  thought  of  every- 
body, but  the  one  we  thought  was  the  meanest  was 
old  Dad  Veek.  So  we  wrote  his  name  at  the  top  of 
the  list  in  my  memorandum  book,  and  we  said  we'd 
262 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

burn  his  barn,  and  that  we  would  do  it  at  nine  of 
night  on  the  eighteenth  of  December.  I  wrote  the 
letter  of  warning  that  was  to  be  stabbed  onto  his 
door  with  a  dagger,  because  I  was  Secretary,  and  I 
wrote  the  date  of  revenge  in  the  memorandum  book, 
and  we  all  went  out  and  over  to  Veek's  barn. 

We  hid  in  the  dead  weeds  at  the  side  of  the  road 
and  drew  straws  to  see  which  of  the  Red  Avengers 
had  to  go  up  and  dagger  the  warning  onto  old  Dad 
Veek's  barn,  and  Bony  drew  the  fatal  straw ;  but  of 
course  he  was  afraid  to  do  it,  so  Swatty  did  it;  He 
sneaked  through  the  fence  into  Veek's  yard  and  up 
to  the  barn  door.  He  did  n't  have  a  dagger,  so  he  took 
a  sort  of  splinter  and  ran  it  through  the  warning 
and  stuck  the  point  in  a  crack  in  the  door,  and 
scooted  back  to  us.  It  was  a  daring  deed,  worthy  of 
our  fearless  Chief,  and  we  received  him  with  silent 
cheers,  because  we  had  scarce  hoped  he  would  return 
from  his  perilous  mission  alive.  (That's  from  the 
dime  lib'ry  book.) 

Well,  that  was  pretty  good,  and  we  felt  bully. 
I  guess  we  would  have  gone  ahead  and  put  up  some 
more  warnings  another  day,  but  it  turned  cold  that 
night  and  the  skating  got  good  and  we  forgot  to  be 
Red  Avengers.  You  can't  be  everything  all  the  time. 
We  did  n't  think  any  more  about  it  until  the  day 
after  the  fire.  That  was  the  Sunday  we  were  up /in 
my  room  and  Swatty  said: 

"Well,  men,  the  Red  Avengers  have  been  true  to 
their  oath!  The  enemy's  property  lies  in  ruins!" 
263 


SWATTY 

So  I  said: 

"Yes,  Chief,  I  carried  out  the  orders  of  the  band 
to  the  fullest.  My  trusty  torch  has  laid  the  vermin's 
dwelling  low." 

"You?"  said  Swatty.  "You  did  n't  do  it.  I  did  it." 

Toady  was  sitting  on  the  window  sill,  and  Bony 
was  in  a  chair  looking  at  a  magazine.  Toady  just 
sat  and  popped  his  eyes  at  us. 

"Aw,  now!"  he  said,  "you  did  n't  burn  that  barn 
down,  either  of  you.  You're  just  fooling."  » 

Well,  I  guess  that  was  a  little  too  much  for  any- 
body to  say,  especially  when  he  was  a  member  of  the 
Red  Avengers  himself. 

"  I  did,  too!"  I  said.  "I  took  my  oath  to  do  it,  and 
I  did  it.  Do  you  think  I'd  take  my  oath  to  do  it, 
and  then  not  do  it?  Of  course  I  burned  it  down, 
when  I  said  I  would!" 

"Of  course  you  would,"  said  Swatty.  "  If  you  took 
your  oath  to  burn  down  Veek's  bam  you'd  do  it. 
Only  I  was  the  one  that  took  the  oath ;  you  was  n't. 
Toady  had  better  not  say  I  'd  take  an  oath  and  then 
not  do  it!  When  you  trust  a  job  to  the  Chief  of  the 
Red  Avengers  it'll  be  done.  At  nine  of  night  I 
sneaked  up  to  old  Dad  Veek's  barn  — " 

"Ho!  Nine!"  I  said.  "Well,  no  wonder!  No  won- 
der you  thought  you  did  it,  sneaking  up  at  nine! 
Now  I  know  why  you  thought  you  did  it,  when  I 
was  the  one  that  really  did  it !  Why,  I  would  n't  wait 
until  nine  when  I  had  promised  to  set  a  barn  afire  at 
nine.  I  'd  be  afraid  I  might  not  get  the  match  lit  in 
264 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

time,  or  something.  I  was  there  at  a  quarter  of  nine, 
and  I  had  the  barn  on  fire  long  before  nine." 

Swatty  kind  of  looked  at  me. 

"Oh!"  he  saidi  "Whereabouts  did  you  set  the 
fire  going?" 

I  thought  a  minute. 

"Around  at  the  far  side,  away  from  the  road, 
Chief,"  I  said. 

' '  Well,  then,  no  wonder ! ' '  said  Swatty .- ' '  That f s 
why  I  did  n't  see  you  doing  it.  I  set  the  side  toward 
the  road  burning.  So  I  guess  I  was  the  one  that  set 
the  barn  afire  first,  because  it  would  take  you  a  long 
time  to  go  around  the  barn  to  the  other  side." 

"Maybe  we  both  set  it  afire  at  the  same  time,"  I 
said. 

"All  right,  maybe  we  did,"  Swatty  said. 

"Because,"  I  said,  "I  ain't  going  to  be  cheated 
out  of  having  set  it  afire  by  you  or  anybody,  Swatty, 
when  I  went  to  all  the  trouble  I  did." 

"I  know,"  said  Swatty,  "but  you  can't  say  I 
did  n't  set  it  afire,  either,  because  when  I  was  walk- 
ing down  to  the  creek  from  the  West  I  turned  my 
ankle  and  had  to  take  my  skates  off  and  limp  home. 
Ain't  that  so,  Bony?"  Bony  said  yes,  it  was.  "And 
Bony  thought  I  had  really  sprained  my  ankle," 
said  Swatty,  "but  you  know  what  I  was  up  to. 
Throw  'em  all  off  the  track!  Be  alone  so  I  could  do 
the  deed!" 

"Well,  I  guess  we  both  did  it  at  the  same  time," 
I  said,  and  Swatty  said  he  guessed  we  did,  so  that 
265 


SWATTY 

settled  it.  But  when  Swatty  got  ready  to  go  home  I 
whispered  to  him: 

"You  did  n't  really  do  it,  did  you?" 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  just  wanted  to  make  Toady 
and  Bony  think  I  did.  I  was  in  my  kitchen  putting 
arnica  on  my  ankle.  Did  you  really  do  it?" 
f  "Of  course  I  did  n't!"  I  said.  "I  was  up  here  in 
my  bedroom  looking  at  my  raw  ankle.  But  we  won't 
let  on." 

"Sure  not!"  said  Swatty. 

Well,  pretty  soon  some  of  the  fellows  or  some- 
body began  saying  maybe  old  Dad  Veek  would  have 
to  go  to  jail  for  setting  his  own  barn  afire,  like  I 
told  you  in  the  beginning.  Then,  after  while,  I  heard 
my  mother  say  to  my  father,  that  some  of  the 
Ladies'  Aid  ladies  were  bestirring  themselves  because 
they  were  sure  that  old  Dad  Veek  would  n't  set  his 
own  barn  afire,  and  they  had  asked  Tom  Burton  to 
help  them  and  he  was  helping.  But  one  day  we  were 
up  in  my  barn  —  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  —  and 
Toady  came  up. 

He  came  up  the  stairs  far  enough  to  see  into  the 
hayloft,  then  he  stopped  and  when  we  saw  him  he 
came  on  up.  I  said: 

"Hello,  Toady!" 

"Hello!  "he  said. 

"What  do  you  want?  "  I  asked,  because  he  had  n't 
been  playing  with  us  much. 

"Oh,  I  just  thought  I'd  get  my  dime  lib'ry,"  he 
said.  "You  don't  want  it  any  more,  do  you?" 
266 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

"No,  we  don't  want  it,"  I  said,  and  he  went  to 
the  starch  box  and  got  it,  and  he  came  over  to  where 
we  were,  and  he  said:  "I  guess  you  have  n't  set  any 
more  barns  afire,  have  you?" 

"What  barns?"  Swatty  asked. 

"Well,  you  did  set  one  afire,  didn't  you?"  said 
Toady.  "You  and  George  set  Veek's  afire,  didn't 
you?" 

Swatty  stood  up  then,  all  right!  He  stood  up  and 
folded  his  fists. 

"Who  said  we  set  Veek's  barn  afire?"  he  asked, 
and  he  was  pretty  mad.  But  I  was  n't;  I  was  just 
scared.  It 's  incenderyism,  or  something  like  that,  if 
you  set  a  barn  afire,  and  you  get  sent  to  reform 
school  for  life. 

,    ' '  Who  said  it ?  I  did  n't  say  it,"  said  Toady. ' '  You 
said  it.  You  and  George  said  you  did." 

Well,  of  course  I  had  n't  been  lying  when  I  told 
Toady  and  Swatty  and  Bony  how  I  had  set  Dad 
Veek's  barn  afire,  but  I  had  just  been  fooling.  So  I 
said: 

"Aw!  I  never  said  no  such  thing!  I  never  either 
said  I  set  it  afire.  Swatty  said  he  set  it  afire.  I 
could  n't  have  set  it  afire,  because  I  was  sitting  on 
my  bed  when  it  got  afire." 

So  Swatty  got  mad.  I  guess  he  wanted  to  lick 
somebody,  but  he  did  n't  know  whether  to  lick  me 
or  to  lick  Toady. 

"Aw!  I  never  either  said  I  set  it  afire!"  he  said. 
4 'If  anybody  set  it  afire  George  did,  because  I 
267 


SWATTY 

was  home,  putting  arnica  on  me,  when  the  fire 
started." 

"Well,  you  said  you  did,"  I  said.  "You  said  so 
right  up  in  my  room.  You  did  so." 

"I  did  not!  You  said  you  did." 

"I  did  not!  I  never  said  anything  like  it.  If  any- 
body said  he  set  Veek's  barn  afire,  Swatty  said  it." 

"Aw!  I  did  not!"  Swatty  said.  "You  said  it.  You 
said  it.  You  said  you  took  a  torch,  and  went  around 
to  the  far  side  and  set  the  barn  afire.  I  heard  you 
say  it.  And  you  said  I  could  n't  have  set  the  barn 
afire  because  you  had  it  all  afire  before  I  got  there. 
Did  n't  he  say  that,  Toady?" 

Well,  I  guess  Toady  knew  mighty  well  that  if  he 
was  going  to  get  mallered  for  saying  either  of  us 
said  it  he  had  better  say  I  said  it,  because  Swatty 
could  lick  any  of  us.  So  he  said  I  did  say  it. 

So  I  went  for  him  and  mallered  him  as  much  as  I 
could.  I  got  so  mad  I  cried,  and  I  guess  I  kicked  him. 
Not  Swatty,  Toady.  So  when  I  got  tired  I  was  still 
mad,  and  I  sat  down  on  a  box  and  cried.  Then 
Toady  sneaked  over  to  the  stairs  and  went  part  way 
down,  and  just  before  he  was  out  of  sight  he  looked 
back. 

"Cry-baby!"  he  said,  and  that  meant  me.  Then 
he  said:  "All  right,  you'd  better  look  out!  You  both 
said  you  did  it,  and  you  both  said  you  said  it,  and 
Dad  Veek  's  got  that  Red  Avengers'  notice  you  fas- 
tened on  his  barn  door  and  Tom  Burton  knows  all 
about  it." 

268 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

Gee,  we  were  scared!  I  was  so  scared  I  didn't 
throw  anything  at  Toady,  and  Swatty  was  so  scared 
he  just  said:  "Garsh!"  and  stood  there.  Well,  me 
and  Swatty  we  talked  it  over. 

We  knew  we  had  n't  set  the  barn  afire,  but  we 
knew  we  had  said  we  had,  and  we  knew  old  Dad 
Veek  would  do  'most  anything  to  keep  out  of  jail, 
and  that  my  mother  and  the  Ladies'  Aid  ladies  were 
bestirring.  So  then  we  knew  why  Toady  had  come 
up  to  get  us  to  say  again  we  had  done  it;  he  was 
one  of  the  Red  Avengers  and  unless  we  said  we  had 
set  the  barn  afire  ourselves  all  the  Red  Avengers 
would  be  sent  to  reform  school,  and  he  wanted  to 
get  out  of  it  and  had  gone  and  told  Tom  Burton 
about  us  and  the  Red  Avengers  and  that  we  had  set 
the  barn  afire. 

"Garsh!"  said  Swatty,  "he  took  the  memoran- 
dum book  you  had  old  Veek's  barn  wrote  down  at 
the  top  of  the  list  of!" 

And  he  had !  So  Bony  sort  of  doubled  down  in  his 
corner  and  cried,  but  me  and  Swatty  sat  down  on  a 
box  to  think  and  talk  and  see  what  we  had  better  do. 

Well,  the  way  Tom  Burton  had  gone  to  work  to 
help  my  mother  and  the  Ladies'  Aid  ladies  who  were 
bestirring  themselves,  was  this:  He  found  out  that 
the  reason  old^Dad  Veek  had  so  much  insurance  was 
because  he  was  a  slow  worker,  and  sometimes  he 
had  the  barn  almost  full  of  stuff  he  was  working  on, 
and  then  it  was  worth  as  much  as  it  was  insured  for. 
So  that  helped  some.  Then  old  Dad  Veek  showed 
269 


SWATTY 

him  the  Red  Avengers'  warning  Swatty  had  fastened 
on  his  barn  door,  and  that  was  pretty  bad,  because 
the  time  it  said  the  barn  would  burn  down  was  the 
time  it  did  burn. 

I  guess  he  might  have  thought  it  was  some  men 
or  something,  if  it  had  n't  been  for  the  name  of  the 
Red  Avengers.  It  sounded  like  boys.  So  Tom  Burton 
found  out  there  was  a  dime  lib'ry  named  "The  Red 
Avengers,"  because  one  was  hanging  in  Toady 
Williams's  father's  store  window,  and  then  he  knew 
it  was  boys.  So  he  asked  Toady  Williams  if  he 
knew  anything  about  it,  and  Toady  went  and  told 
him.  He  told  him  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  was 
the  Red  Avengers  and  that  we  had  set  the  barn 
afire. 

We  found  all  that  out  mighty  soon,  because  it 
was  n't  half  an  hour  after  Toady  went  out  of  the 
bam  before  Tom  Burton  came  up.  The  tattle-tale 
had  gone  right  to  him. 

Tom  Burton  came  up  and  he  stood  and  talked  to 
us.  He  told  us  he  knew  all  about  the  Red  Avengers 
and  that  he  had  our  memorandum  book  with  Dad 
Veek's  name  in  it  and  everything,  and  that  he  knew 
who  had  written  the  memorandum  book,  and  the 
notice  that  was  daggered  on  Dad  Veek's  door,  and 
everything,  and  he  asked  us  which  one  of  us  done  it. 
Gee,  I  was  scared!  But  none  of  us  said  anything. 
Maybe  we  were  too  scared  to. 

So  then  he  said,  "All  right!  it  will  only  be  a  little 
while  before  all  will  be  known,  and  the  one  that  did 
270 


THE  RED  AVENGERS 

it  will  surely  be  sent  to  reform  school,  so  the  other 
two,  that  did  n't  do  it,  had  better  tell  on  the  one 
that  did  do  it." 

But  none  of  us  said  anything.  So  he  talked  awhile 
and  then  he  went  away.  Me  and  Bony  did  n't  say 
anything. 

"Garsh!"  Swatty  said.  "It's  mighty  bad." 

Me  and  Bony  did  n't  say  anything  yet.  We  was 
too  scared.  Bony  began  to  blubber. 

"You  don't  need  to  cry,"  Swatty  told  him.  "You 
ain't  going  to  be  sent  to  reform  school.  You  did  n't 
do  it." 

"Well  — well,"  Bony  blubbered.  "You  and 
Georgie  did  n't  do  it,  either." 

"Well,  it  don't  matter  whether  we  did  it  or  did 
n't  do  it,"  Swatty  said.  "  We  wrote  down  that  we 
were  going  to  do  it,  and  they  've  got  the  warning  and 
the  memorandum  book,  and  we  both  said  we'd  done 
it  ourselves,  and  we  both  said  the  other  had  done  it, 
and  I  guess  they'll  send  us  to  reform  school."  Bony 
kept  on  blubbering,  so  we  told  him  he  had  better 
go  home  if  he  was  a  cry-baby,  and  he  went.  So  then 
Swatty  said: 

"I  guess  it  ain't  much  use;  but  we've  got  to  say, 
no  matter  how  they  ask  us,  that  we  ain't  the  Red 
Avengers." 

" That 'd  be  a  lie,"  I  said. 

"Well,  no,  it  wouldn't,"  said  Swatty,  "because 
there  won't  be  any  Red  Avengers,  and  we'll  say, 
'No,  we  ain't!'  and  that'll  be  the  truth,  because  we 
271 


SWATTY 

won't  be  then.  We'll  bust  up  the  Red  Avengers 
right  now." 

So  we  took  a  vote  and  voted  that  we  were  not  the 
Red  Avengers  any  more  and  that  we  never  had  been 
the  Red  Avengers.  So  that  settled  that,  but  it  did  n't 
make  us  feel  much  better.  We  sat  and  thought 
awhile  and  then  Swatty  said: 

"I  know!  Georgie,  you  can  ask  Fan  to  tell  Tom 
Burton  to  let  us  go  free." 

"Aw!  that  won't  do  any  good,"  I  said.  '"*• 

And  I  did  n't  think  it  would,  but  Swatty  said  it 
was  our  only  chance,  so  I  said  I  would  ask  Fan,  and 
I  did.  I  hated  to,  but  I  did  it. 


XIII 
THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

FIRST,  of  course,  I  made  Fan  promise  she  would 
never  tell,  hope  to  die  and  cross  her  heart,  and  she 
promised,  and  then  I  told  her  all  about  the  Red 
Avengers  and  how,  if  we  did  set  Dad  Veek's  barn 
afire  we  didn't  mean  to,  and  she  said  she  would 
talk  to  Tom  Burton  about  it,  but  she  said  Tom 
Burton  was  stubborn  and  she  would  have  to  wait 
until  she  had  the  right  chance.  She  was  nicer  than 
she  had  ever  been  to  me. 

"Have  you  told  anybody  else?"  she  asked  me.' 

"No,"  I  said. 

"Did  Swatty  tell  his  brother  Herbert? "  she  asked. 

"No.  Nobody  has  told  anybody,"  I  said. 

Well,  me  and  Swatty  felt  pretty  bad  and  scared 
and  sick,  and  one  reason  was  that  Bony  stopped 
playing  with  us.  His  father  found  out  about  the 
Red  Avengers  and  made  him  promise  he  would  n't 
play  with  me  and  Swatty  any  more  because  we  were 
bad  boys  and  would  ruin  Bony.  So  we  never  expected 
to  play  with  Bony  again,  but  we  did,  and  this  was 
how  it  happened. 

Bony's  father  and  mother  used  to  fight  like  every- 
body else,  and  about  bills,  because  they  were  having 
a  fight  like  that  when  Bony's  father  took  the  shot- 
gun and  went  away  from  home.  I  guess  it  was  a  hat 
273 


SWATTY 

Bony's  mother  had  bought  that  was  the  worst,  but 
Bony  was  n't  sure.  He  said  they  began  to  fight  when 
the  grocery  bill  came  and  fought  harder  and  harder 
the  more  bills  there  were,  but  it  was  n't  until  the 
hat  bill  came  that  Bony's  father  stopped  sassing 
back,  and  got  solemn  and  quiet  and  said  that  some- 
times he  felt  that  it  was  no  use  trying  to  keep  up 
the  struggle  against  poverty  and  starvation,  and 
that  sometimes  when  these  evidences  of  extrava- 
gance came  in  he  felt  just  like  going  off  somewhere 
by  himself  and  ending  everything.  So  then  Bony's 
mother  said,  "Oh!  nonsense!"  and  pretty  soon 
Bony's  father  got  his  shotgun  and  went  out  of  the 
house. 

So  Bony  just  sat  there  in  the  room  expecting  every 
minute  to  hear  the  shotgun  and  to  run  out  and  see 
his  father  dead  in  the  stable.  He  sat  there  and  pre- 
tended to  be  studying  his  geography  lesson  for  Mon- 
day, but  all  he  was  doing  was  listening  to  hear  the 
shot.  It  was  a  mighty  mean  job,  I  guess,  sitting 
there  listening  like  that,  and  waiting  to  hear  his 
father  kill  himself;  but  he  did  n't  hear  anything. 

So  pretty  soon  he  shut  up  his  book  and  sort  of 
tiptoed  out  of  the  house,  but  he  did  not  dare  go  near 
the  stable.  He  did  n't  know  what  to  do.  He  went 
out  on  the  front  steps  and  stood  there,  and  pretty 
soon  he  saw  me  and  Swatty  at  the  corner,  and  he 
waved  to  us  and  came  running,  and  we  waited  for 
him. 

It  was  January,  but  it  was  n't  cold  because  we 
274 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

were  having  a  thaw.  It  was  good  snow  to  make 
snowballs  of,  so  when  Bony  started  to  come  toward 
us  we  made  a  few  snowballs  and  just  threw  them  at 
him.  I  guess  we  hit  him  five  or  six  times,  but  he 
didn't  beller  for  us  to  stop,  like  he  usually  does;  he 
put  his  arm  in  front  of  his  face  and  came  right  on. 
When  he  got  too  close  for  us  to  throw  at  him  any 
more  we  stopped  and  then  we  saw  he  was  crying. 

"Aw,  shut  up  and  don't  be  a  baby!"  Swatty  said; 
"we  didn't  hurt  you."  But  Bony  kept  right  on 
bawling.  He  did  n't  bawl  the  way  a  cowardy-calf 
bawls  when  he  gets  hurt,  he  bawled  like  —  well,  I 
guess  he  bawled  like  a  fellow  bawls  when  his  father 
has  gone  off  with  a  shotgun  to  shoot  himself.  So  then 
we  did  n't  tell  him  to  shut  up  any  more.  Swatty 
said: 

"What's  the  matter,  Bony?" 

So  then  Bony  put  his  arm  up  against  a  tree  and 
cried  into  it,  and  after  he  had  cried  awhile  he  said: 

"My — my  fath-father's  out  in  the  barn  sh- 
shooting  himself  with  his  shotgun!" 

"He  ain't  neither!"  Swatty  said,  and  I  said  it  too. 

"He  is,  too,  killing  himself!"  Bony  said,  and  he 
blubbered  at  the  same  time.  "You  need  n't  think, 
just  because  your  fath-fathers  don't  kill  themselves, 
nobody  else's  father  never  kik-kills  himself!  My  fa- 
father  said  he'd  kik-kill  himself,  and  if  he  said  so  he 
w-will!" 

1 '  Aw !  He  ain't  neither  killing  himself  in  the  barn ! ' ' 
Swatty  said,  and  I  guess  that  made  Bony  mad,  be- 
275 


SWATTY . 

cause  it  was  like  saying  Bony's  father  was  a  liar, 
or  that  Bony  was,  anyway.  Mostly  Bony  would  n't 
fight,  no  matter  what  you  said,  because  he's  a  cow- 
ardy-calf ;  but  I  guess  when  a  fellow's  father  is  killing 
himself  in  a  barn  or  anywhere  he  don't  care  what 
happens  to  him,  so  Bony  was  so  mad  he  forgot  how 
easy  Swatty  could  lick  him,  and  he  sort  of  howled 
like  a  cat  when  you  step  on  its  tail  and  he  pitched 
into  Swatty  with  both  fists.  So  Swatty  had  to  lick 
him.  He  licked  him  good.  So  when  Swatty  had  him 
down  and  was  sitting  on  him,  Swatty  said: 

"Now  is  your  father  killing  himself  in  the 
barn?" 

"Yes,  he  is!"  Bony  blubbered,  and  then  we  knew 
that  Bony's  father  was  really  going  to  kill  himself, 
because  if  Bony  had  n't  been  pretty  sure  he  would 
have  said  he  was  n't,  because  he  knew  how  Swatty 
can  push  a  fellow's  nose  into  his  face  with  the  bot- 
tom of  his  hand  when  he  has  got  him  down  and  he 
don't  say  what  Swatty  wants  him  to  say.  So  we 
knew  it  must  be  pretty  serious.  So  Swatty  did  n't 
push  Bony's  nose,  but  he  said: 

"Well,  your  father  ain't  killing  himself  in  the 
barn,  because  he  went  by  here  a  little  while  ago  with 
his  shotgun.  How  do  you  know  he's  going  to  kill 
himself?" 

"I  know  it  because  him  and  Mother  was  fighting 
over  bills,  and  he  said  he  would,"  Bony  said. 

So  then  Swatty  said,  aw!  he  did  n't  believe  any- 
body would  kill  himself  because  he  was  fighting 
276 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

over  bills.  He  said  he  did  n't  believe  any  grown-up 
man  would  fight  over  a  little  thing  like  bills ;  so  that 
made  me  mad,  and  I  said,  aw!  any  man  would  fight 
over  bills,  and  that  my  father  did,  and  that  my 
father  was  a  better  man  than  Swatty's  father  any 
day  in  the  week  and  could  lick  Swatty's  father  any 
time  they  wanted  to  try  it.  And  that  was  true,  and 
Swatty  knew  it,  because  my  father  was  bigger  than 
his  father  and  not  so  old.  So  Swatty  said,  aw!  well, 
his  oldest  brother  could  lick  my  father,  anyway.  So 
I  said  he'd  better  try  it  if  he  wanted  to  find  out, 
and  Swatty  said,  Aw!  And  I  guess  that's  all  we  said 
about  that. 

Anyway,  it  did  n't  seem  to  make  Bony  feel  any 
better  that  his  father  had  taken  his  shotgun  and 
had  gone  off  somewhere  else  to  kill  himself  instead 
of  killing  himself  right  at  home  in  the  barn.  He  kept 
right  on  with  a  kind  of  whine-blubber,  even  when 
Swatty  and  me  were  jawing,  so  Swatty  said: 

"Aw!  what  you  bellerin'  about?" 

"I'll  —I'll  beller  if  I  want  to,"  Bony  said.  "I 
guess  you'd  beller  if  your  father  was  going  to  kill 
himself,  you  would." 

"I  would  not  so!"  Swatty  said.  "  What's  the  use 
of  bellerin'  when  you  can't  do  nothing  about  it?  If 
he's  going  to  kill  himself,  he's  going  to,  and  you 
can't  help  it.  If  my  father  was  going  to  do  what  you 
said  your  father  was  going  to  do  I  'd  let  him  do  it, 
and  I  would  n't  spoil  everybody's  fun  by  bawling 
about  it.  I'd  just  go  ahead  and  play  like  nothing 
277 


SWATTY 

was  going  to  happen,  until  I  had  to  go  in  and  dress 
for  the  funeral." 

Well,  I  guess  that  was  n't  a  very  good  thing  for 
Swatty  to  say,  because  it  made  Bony  blubber  more 
than  ever.  So  then  Swatty  got  sore  and  disgusted 
and  he  said : 

"Aw!  shut  up,  then,  and  we'll  go  and  find  your 
father  and  take  the  shotgun  away  from  him,  if  you  're 
going  to  be  a  baby  about  it!" 

That's  the  way  Swatty  always  is;  me  or  Bony 
would  never  think  of  going  and  taking  a  shotgun 
away  from  a  father  that  wanted  to  kill  himself,  and 
if  we  did  think  of  it  we  would  never  dare  to  do  it; 
but  Swatty  would  n't  care  who  he  took  a  shotgun 
away  from  if  he  got  mad  because  somebody  bellered 
about  nothing.  So  we  knew  he'd  do  it  if  we  went 
along.  So  we  went  along. 

When  we  saw  Bony's  father  go  by  with  the  shot- 
gun he  was  going  toward  downtown,  so  me  and 
Bony  and  Swatty  started  toward  downtown,  and  we 
talked  about  where  Bony's  father  would  probably 
go  to  kill  himself  if  he  did  n't  want  to  kill  himself  in 
his  barn,  and  none  of  us  thought  he  would  go  down- 
town to  do  it  because  somebody  might  see  him  start 
to  do  it  and  stop  him.  So  we  talked  about  it  and  we 
made  up  our  minds  we  would  go  over  into  the  Illi- 
nois bottom,  across  the  Mississippi,  because  a  man 
once  went  over  there  to  kill  himself,  and  did  it  and 
nobody  bothered  him  while  he  was  doing  it  or  knew 
about  it  until  afterward. 

278 


f  THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

Of  course  the  ferry  was  n't  running,  but  it  was 
easy  enough  for  Bony's  father  to  get  across  the  river 
because  the  ice  was  frozen  and  the  river  was  closed 
and  he  could  go  over  on  the  ice. 

We  went  down  to  the  river.  There  was  a  good  deal 
of  water  on  the  ice  in  some  places,  and  the  snow  was 
mushy  everywhere  on  it  and  it  was  pretty  bad 
walking.  I  guess  you  know  what  the  river  is  like 
when  it  is  closed.  There  is  a  lot  of  snow  on  it  because 
nobody  shovels  it  off,  and  they  could  n't  if  they 
tried,  because  the  river  is  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
wide  there,  and  there 's  no  place  to  shovel  the  snow 
to,  and  it 's  just  as  good  right  where  it  is  as  it  would 
be  anywhere  else. 

But  before  the  thaw  comes  the  snow  blows  off 
some  of  the  smooth  places  and  banks  up  against  the 
rough  places  on  the  ice  in  drifts.  The  river  don't 
freeze  over  all  at  once  —  the  ice  floats  down  and 
jams  and  stops  and  the  bare  places  between  freeze 
over;  but  when  the  ice  jams,  it  crumples  up  on  the 
edges  and  makes  ridges,  and  it  is  where  the  ridges 
are  that  the  snow  banks  up  into  drifts.  Sometimes 
the  drifts  are  all  around  a  smooth  sheet  of  ice,  and 
then  when  the  snow  begins  to  melt,  the  smooth  ice 
turns  into  a  sort  of  pond,  and  maybe  the  water  on 
top  of  the  ice  is  an  inch  deep  and  maybe  it  is  more. 

Here  and  there  there  are  air  holes,  because  I  guess 
a  river  has  to  breathe  like  anybody  else  and  the 
air  holes  are  where  it  breathes.  They  are  different 
sizes. 

279 


SWATTY 

Well,  the  road  across  the  river  on  the  ice  is  always 
crooked.  The  farmers  over  in  Illinois  make  the  road 
to  bring  over  cordwood  and  hay  and  stuff,  because 
they  can  bring  it  over  on  the  ice  free  and  it  costs 
twenty-five  cents  a  load  when  the  ferry  is  running. 

So  the  first  farmer  that  dares  drive  across  on  the 
ice  starts  out  from  the  Illinois  shore,  and  he  starts 
straight,  but  pretty  soon  he  has  to  curve  around  a 
drift,  and  then  he  has  to  curve  around  an  air  hole, 
and  then  he  has  to  go  around  a  piece  of  ice  that  looks 
thin,  and  by  the  time  he  has  got  to  town  he  has 
made  a  crooked  road;  and  the  next  farmer  drives 
in  the  same  path,  because  the  first  farmer's  horses' 
shoes  have  roughed  it  up  a  little  and  made  it  easier 
to  travel. 

So  that  is  how  the  road  gets  made,  and  before 
very  long  it  gets  to  be  quite  a  road.  It  gets  dark  and 
dirty  from  the  horses  and  the  dirt  off  the  cordwood 
and  maybe  some  coal  the  farmers  take  home,  and 
there  are  wisps  of  hay  all  along,  rubbed  off  loads 
when  they  passed  other  teams. 

By  the  time  the  thaw  comes,  a  good  deal  of  the 
river  in  front  of  town  gets  so  you  know  how  it  looks, 
just  like  the  town  itself.  The  wood  road  goes  zig- 
zagging across,  and  maybe  —  if  it  is  a  cold  winter  — 
the  trotting-horse  men  have  a  speed  track  on  the 
ice  that  is  different  from  the  wood  road  and  marked 
off  to  show  a  mile.  Wagon  loads  of  waste  stuff  get 
dumped  on  the  ice  in  piles  and  maybe  a  dozen  or 
two  dozen  dead  horses.  You  get  so  you  know  how  it 
280 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

looks,  and  you  get  to  feeling  as  if  the  river  had  al- 
ways been  frozen  over  and  had  always  looked  like 
that.  Maybe  you  have  names  for  things,  so  anybody 
like  Swatty  or  Bony  knows  what  you  mean  when 
you  say:  "You  know,  where  the  wood  road  comes 
nearest  to  the  horseshoe  air  hole." 

Well,  it  was  pretty  mushy  when  we  started  across 
the  river.  It  was  warm,  too,  warm  enough  to  make 
us  sweat ;  but  there  was  a  good  breeze  blowing  from 
the  Illinois  shore  and  it  was  n't  as  warm  as  it  might 
have  been.  But,  anyway,  it  was  warm.  Swatty 
showed  us  where  to  go.  He  went  first  and  we  went 
behind  him,  and  pretty  soon  we  were  far  off  the 
wood  road  because  wherever  there  was  a  drier  place 
he  went  that  way. 

When  we  got  out  toward  the  middle  of  the  river, 
away  from  the  town  dirt,  I  wished  we  had  n't  come. 
Out  there  the  ice  had  n't  been  cut  up  by  being  skated 
on,  and  there  were  whole  big  places  where  the  ice 
was  perfectly  smooth  and  green  and  clear,  and  with 
the  snow  water  on  top  of  it  we  could  n't  tell  whether 
it  was  ice  or  air  hole.  We  had  to  walk  on  the  snow 
close  to  the  ridges,  because  there  we  knew  there 
was  ice  under  us,  even  if  we  did  wade  through  slush 
up  to  our  knees.  It  was  scary  enough  for  anybody 
and  Bony  began  to  cry. 

I  guess  we  would  have  gone  back  if  it  had  n't 

been  for  Swatty,  and  even  Swatty  did  n't  tell  Bony 

to  shut  up  and  stop  crying.  I  guess  Swatty  felt  pretty 

scared  himself.  You  could  n't  see  anybody  on  the 

281 


SWATTY 

ice  anywhere ;  we  were  the  only  ones.  I  guess  every- 
body was  afraid  to  go  on  the  ice,  it  was  getting  so 
rotten.  That 's  what  I  thought  then,  but  it  was  n't 
the  reason;  Swatty  knew  the  real  reason,  but  he 
did  n't  tell  us  then  because  he  was  afraid  we  would 
be  more  scared  than  we  were.  Nobody  was  on  the 
ice  because  they  were  afraid  it  might  go  out  any 
minute. 

So  all  Swatty  did  was  to  say,  "Hurry  up!"  be- 
cause he  was  afraid  if  we  did  n't  hurry  up  maybe  the 
ice  would  go  out  before  we  got  across,  and  nobody 
likes  to  get  drowned  in  ice  water. 
•  So  pretty  soon  we  came  to  a  place  where  there 
was  n't  any  snow  and  where  there  were  no  ridges  — 
nothing  but  clear  ice  with  water  on  it,  and  the  wind 
making  little  ripples.  Bony  cried,  and  I  said,  "Aw! 
let's  go  back,  Swatty!"  because  you  couldn't  tell 
whether  it  was  ice  under  that  water  or  air  hole. 
Swatty  looked  all  around,  but  he  could  n't  see  any 
way  to  get  to  Illinois  but  to  cross  right  over.  Neither 
could  any  of  us.  So  Swatty  said: 

"All  right  for  you!  You  and  Bony  can  let  his 
father  kill  himself  if  you  want  to;  but  I  won't,  and 
when  I  get  back  I'll  lick  you  both." 

Well,  we  did  n't  care  if  he  did  lick  us.  We  'd  rather 
be  licked  than  be  drowned.  So  Swatty  said : 

"Aw!  Come  on!  I  wouldn't  have  come  if  I 
thought  you  were  a  couple  of  cry-baby  cowardy- 
calves.  I'll  dare  you  to  come!" 

But  we  did  n't.  So  Swatty  said: 
282 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

"I  double  tribble  dare  you,  and  whoever  don't 
take  the  dare  is  a  sooner!" 

Well,  a  sooner  was  the  worst  thing  anybody  could 
call  you ;  even  Bony  would  fight  if  you  called  him  a 
sooner,  but  we  did  n't  care  what  he  called  us ;  but 
just  then  we  heard  a  gun  go  off  over  in  the  woods, 
and  before  either  of  us  could  stop  him  Bony  started. 
He  ran  right  out  on  the  wet  ice,  crying  and  blubber- 
ing, and  he  fell  down  in  the  water  and  got  up  again 
and  ran  on.  Every  little  while  he  would  fall  down, 
but  he  would  get  right  up  and  run  again.  The  water 
was  almost  up  to  his  knees,  but  he  did  n't  care.  I 
guess  he  kind  of  liked  his  father  and  wanted  to  get 
to  him. 

Swatty  shouted  and  told  him  to  stop  and  come 
back,  or  anyway  to  wait  for  us,  but  Bony  ran  right 
on.  Swatty  shouted: 

"Hey,  Bony!  come  back,  I  was  only  fooling!  Your 
father  ain't  going  to  kill  himself." 

Because  Swatty  knew  Bony's  father  was  n't  going 
to  kill  himself,  but  he  was  afraid  Bony  would  be 
drowned.  He  just  wanted  us  to  cross  the  river  be- 
cause nobody  had  ever  crossed  it  when  the  ice  was 
so  rotten  and  we  would  be  the  first  that  ever  did  it, 
and  he  knew  we  would  n't  do  it  unless  we  thought 
we  were  going  to  save  Bony's  father,  or  something. 
So  all  we  could  do  was  to  go  after  Bony,  and  we  did. 
We  waded  through  the  water  after  Bony,  and  I  was 
glad  Bony  had  gone  first  because  we  were  sure  there 
was  no  air  hole  where  Bony  had  been  ahead  of  us. 
283 


SWATTY 

But  I  made  Swatty  give  me  his  hand  anyway.  I 
did  n't  like  it  much.  I  did  n't  like  it  any. 

Well,  we  got  across,  and  before  we  got  across 
Bony  had  reached  the  shore  ice.  It  was  pretty  rotten 
and  it  rubbered  down  under  him,  and  if  he  had  n't 
been  running  so  fast  I  guess  he  would  have  broken 
through.  Then  he  stopped  and  looked,  because  be- 
tween him  and  the  shore  was  a  wide  open  space  — 
no  ice,  nothing  but  water.  He  just  stopped  and 
looked,  and  then  looked  back  at  us  and  then  he  ran 
to  the  edge  of  the  ice,  and  it  broke  under  him  and  he 
was  in  water  up  to  his  arms.  It  was  because  there 
was  a  long  sandbar  reached  out  from  the  shore 
there;  if  not  he  would  have  been  drowned.  So  he 
walked  through  the  water  about  half  a  block  and 
me  and  Swatty  went  after  him.  Gee,  it  was  cold ! 

When  we  got  ashore  Bony  was  up  in  the  woods 
and  we  could  hear  him  shouting, ' '  Papa !  Papa ! ' '  and 
crying,  too.  It  was  kind  of  a  sick  shout,  part  cry  and 
part  shout.  It  sounded  like  "Pwaw-pwa!  Uh-uh! 
Pwaw-pa ! ' '  and  then ' '  Pwaw-pwa  I  Pwaw-pvfa  I ' '  and 
then  "Uh-uh-uh!"  like  a  little  kid  cries  when  it  has 
lost  a  penny  it  meant  to  get  candy  with  and  has 
cried  all  the  way  home. 

All  of  a  sudden  we  heard  the  shotgun  again.  It 
was  toward  down-river  and  not  near  us  at  all.  Bony 
heard  it,  too,  and  he  stopped  to  listen  and  we  caught 
up  with  him.  I  guess  he  was  as  good  as  crazy,  be- 
cause when  we  got  to  him  he  started  to  run,  and  he 
ran  right  into  a  grapevine  tangle  and  began  pulling 
284 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

and  pushing  through  it,  although  he  could  have 
taken  ten  steps  and  have  gone  around  it.  I  guess  he 
must  have  liked  his  father  a  lot  to  get  so  crazy  about 
him.  Swatty  went  right  after  him.  He  swore  at  him 
in  German  and  told  him  that  the  way  was  to  go  out 
on  the  shore  where  the  sand  was,  so  he  could  run 
faster.  So  Bony  went  and  we  went,  too,  and  we  all 
ran. 

We  did  n't  say  much.  Swatty  kept  telling  Bony 
what  kind  of  a  fool  he  was  for  thinking  his  father 
was  going  to  kill  himself,  and  Bony  kept  sobbing  and 
running.  I  guess  maybe  I  cried  a  little,  too.  I  felt 
kind  of  —  I  don't  know  —  frightened,  I  guess.  So 
then  we  got  around  the  bend,  and  all  at  once  we 
saw  Bony's  father. 

He  was  out  on  the  ice.  When  we  saw  him  first  he 
was  about  as  far  out  on  the  ice  as  two  blocks  would 
be,  and  he  had  on  his  rubber  boots  and  his  hunting 
coat,  and  it  looked  bulged  around  the  pockets,  so 
me  and  Swatty  knew  he  had  been  hunting  and  had 
got  two  rabbits,  or  maybe  three.  We  guessed  that 
what  had 'happened  was  that  when  he  got  sick  of 
fighting  about  bills  he  went  hunting,  to  forget  about 
it,  because  Swatty's  father  —  when  he  felt  that  way 
—  went  down  to  his  tailor  shop  and  sewed  coats  or 
pants,  and  when  my  father  felt  that  way  he  would 
go  out  and  split  wood  or  maybe  clean  out  the  barn. 
But  I  guess  Bony's  father  thought  he'd  go  hunting. 
I  guess  maybe  he  thought  he'd  like  to  kill  something. 

When  we  saw  him  out  on  the  ice  he  was  walking 


SWATTY 

fast,  or  sort  of  running,  going  toward  the  Iowa 
shore,  but  that  was  n't  what  scared  us.  What  scared 
us  was  that  the  ice  was  moving ! 
*&We  did  n't  see  it  at  first.  Bony  was  yelling  at  his 
father,  and  \  his  father  heard  him  and  turned  and 
looked  back,  and  then  started  to  run  toward  us. 
Where  we  were,  at  the  bend,  the  ice  came  close  in  to 
the,  high  bank  and  on  the  ice  there  was  a  limb  of  a 
big  tree.  Somebody  had  made  a  fire  under  it  and  it 
was  partly  burned.  Bony  ran  up  and  down  the  bank 
looking  for  a  good  place  to  climb  down,  but  Swatty 
was  going  to  slide  down  right  there  and  let  his  feet 
get  on  that  old  dead  limb.  But  when  Bony's  father 
saw  Bony  running  up  and  down  he  shouted  to  Jim, 
"Back!  Back!"  Swatty  looked  at  Bony's  father  to 
see  why  he*was  shouting  that.  Then  he  looked  down 
at  the  old  limb  again.  It  had  moved  along! 

Well,  you  bet  he  was  frightened  for  a  minute !  He 
was  n't  thinking  of  the  ice,  he  was  thinking  of  that 
dead  branch,  and  for  a  dead  branch  to  s^art  and 
move  like  that  is  n't  natural.  He  felt  the  way  you 
feel  when  you  go  to  pick  up  a  stick  and  it  is  a  live 
snake.  For  a  minute  he  just  stood  and  held  his 
breath  and  was  scared,  and  then  he  saw  it  was  n't 
the  dead  limb  that  was  moving  but  the  ice,  and  he 
grabbed  my'  arm  and  pointed.  And  just  then  the 
fire-whistle  on  the  waterworks  over  in  town  began 
to  blow. 

That  was  a  sure  sign  the  ice  was  going  out.  It  was 
to  let  folks  know  so  they  could  come  down  and  see 
286 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

the  ice  go  out  because,  you  bet,  it  is  worth  seeing. 
You  can't  tell  what  the  ice  will  do  when  it  starts  to 
go  out. 

So  then  we  knew  the  ice  must  be  going  out  faster 
on  the  Iowa  side  than  on  our  side.  What  Bony's 
father  was  trying  to  say  and  do  was  to  tell  us  to  keep 
off  the  ice,  and  to  get  off  it  himself;  but  he  did  not 
have  to  tell  us  much  because  before  he  got  close 
enough  for  us  to  hear  him  much  the  ice  was  making 
such  a  noise  we  could  n't  hear  him  at  all.  And  he 
could  n't  get  off !  The  ice  began  to  pile  up  against  the 
upper  side  of  the  bend,  shearing  itself  off  and  sliding 
on  top  of  itself  and  leaving  a  big  open  space  below 
the  bend. 

Well,  I  guess  Bony  cried  then !  And  he  had  some- 
thing to  cry  about  that  time.  His  father  came  run- 
ning as  near  as  he  could  to  us,  but  it  was  n't  very- 
near,  because  the  ice  near  shore  was  cracking  up 
into  big  pieces.  He  ran  up-stream  on  the  ice,  shout- 
ing to  us  all  the  time,  but  the  ice  was  going  down- 
stream, and  at  last  it  floated  down  so  there  was  an 
air  hole  opposite  us  and  he  had  to  stop.  I  say  he  had 
to  stop,  but  he  kept  going,  because  the  ice  carried 
him  on  down  the  river.  He  looked  all  around,  and 
then  waved  his  arm  at  us  and  started  to  run  toward 
the  Tow  Head. 

The  Tow  Head  is  a  big  island  in  the  river  but 

nearer  Iowa  than  Illinois,  where  we  were.  The  wind 

was  pushing  the  ice  over  that  way,  and  I  guess  he 

thought  maybe  he  could  get  off  the  ice  on  the  Tow 

287 


SWATTY 

Head  if  he  could  get  there  before  the  ice  carried 
him  by. 

Bony's  father  ran  around  the  air  hole  and  kept 
running  up  and  across,  and  he  ran  hard;  but  by 
that  time  the  ice  was  going  pretty  fast,  so  me  and 
Swatty  and  Bony  got  down  to  the  sand  and  ran 
down-stream  as  fast  as  we  could.  Or  maybe  not  as 
fast  as  we  could;  we  kept  even  with  Bony's  father. 
He  was  running  up-stream  but  he  was  going  down- 
stream all  the  time. 

Pretty  soon  the  old  race  track  the  men  had  made 
on  the  ice  went  by,  and  then  the  end  of  the  wood 
road  went  by.  It  was  funny  to  think  that  me  and 
Bony  and  Swatty  were  running  one  way  and  Bony's 
father  the  other  way,  and  that  we  kept  right  oppo- 
site each  other.  But  it  was  n't  very  funny,  because 
we  all  thought  Bony's  father  would  be  drowned. 

Well,  the  ice  went  past  the  Tow  Head.  It  went 
past  before  Bony's  father  was  halfway  to  the  Tow 
Head,  and  he  stopped  running  and  stood  still.  Then 
he  turned  and  started  to  run  toward  us  again. 

On  our  side  of  the  river  the  water  between  the 
shore  and  the  ice  was  getting  wider  and  wider,  be- 
cause the  river  was  wider  here  and  because  the  wind 
was  blowing  the  ice  toward  the  Iowa  shore.  If  I  had 
been  Bony's  father  I  would  have  run  for  the  Iowa 
shore  because  the  ice  was  pushing  up  against  it,  but 
it  would  have  been  foolish  because  the  Tow  Head 
was  like  a  knife  and  split  all  the  ice  as  it  came  to  it. 
Nobody  could  get  across  from  where  Bony's  father 
288 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

was  to  the  Iowa  shore,  but  I  did  not  think  of  that. 
But  Bony's  father  did.  So  did  Swatty.  He  said  so 
afterward.  He  said  he  would  have  done  just  what 
Bony's  father  did. 

Bony  was  crying,  of  course,  and  he  was  running  in 
front,  because  he  wanted  to  see  his  father  drowned  if 
he  was  drowned,  I  guess.  I  was  next,  but  Swatty  was 
behind  because  he  had  stopped  to  look,  and  that 
was  the  way  we  were  when  we  came  to  the  mouth  of 
the  First  Slough.  The  ice  was  rubbery,  but  Bony  and 
me  ran  across  and  up  the  bank  and  in  through  the 
woods  —  you  have  to,  there  —  and  kept  right  on  as 
soon  as  we  came  out  on  the  shore. 

Bony's  father  was  getting  nearer  and  nearer,  but 
the  stretch  of  water  was  getting  wider.  It  was  too 
wide  for  anybody  to  swim,  of  course.  I  felt  kind  of 
sick.  I  don't  know  why  —  I  guess  it  was  because*  I 
thought,  all  at  once,  that  I  was  running  like  that 
just  to  see  a  man  drown  in  the  river,  and  it  made  me 
sick.  I  shouted  to  Bony,  but  he  kept  on  running  and 
then  I  looked  at  Bony's  father. 

He  was  still  running,  but  he  had  his  hand  in  the 
air  and  he  was  waving  a  white  handkerchief,  and 
then  he  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  just  ran.  Pretty  soon 
I  looked  back  for  Swatty,  and  I  saw  him ! 

He^was  n't  on  the  shore.  He  —  but  that 's  what 
Swatty  is  like.  He  was  in  a  skiff,  rowing  as  hard  as 
he  could  toward  the  ice ! 

Bony  and  me  had  run  across  the  First  Slough 
without  thinking  of  anything  but  hurrying  up,  but 
289 


SWATTY 

Swatty,  when  he  came  to  the  Slough,  thought, 
"Well,  if  anybody  has  a  boat  around  here  they 
would  haul  it  into  the  Slough  where  the  river  ice 
would  n't  sweep  it  away  or  crush  it."  So  he  just  took 
a  look,  and  there  was  a  skiff.  It  was  hauled  up  under 
a  tree  and  padlocked  to  the  tree.  It  looked  as  if  it 
was  there  for  good  and  all,  but  when  Swatty  looked 
at  the  boat  the  chain  was  just  stapled  into  the  boat 
and  all  he  did  was  pry  out  the  staple  with  a  piece  of 
driftwood.  There  were  no  oarlocks,  but  you  can 
make  a  thole  pin  with  a  piece  of  wood,  and  that  was 
what  Swatty  did.  He  made  thole  pins  with  pieces 
of  driftwood  and  he  pried  the  skiff  down  to  the 
ice  and  slid  it  to  the  river,  and  then  he  jumped  in 
and  began  rowing  with  two  pieces  of  driftwood  for 
oars. 

I  shouted  to  Bony  and  he  stopped,  and  we  turned 
back  and  ran.  Swatty  was  n't  trying  to  keep  up  with 
the  ice,  he  was  trying  to  get  to  it  any  way  he  could, 
and  he  was  having  a  pretty  hard  time  of  it.  First  one 
thole  pin  broke  and  then  the  other  and  he  had  to 
paddle.  I  thought  he  'd  never  reach  the  ice. 

Even  Bony  stopped  crying. 

Well,  Swatty  got  to  the  ice,  but  he  could  n't  land 
on  it.  He  just  sort  of  hugged  it  with  the  boat,  and 
Bony  and  me  had  to  run  again  to  keep  even  with 
him.  Then  Bony's  father  came  to  the  edge  of  the  ice 
and  tried  it  carefully  with  his  foot,  but  it  was  firm 
because  all  the  weak  ice  had  been  scraped  off  at  the 
bend.  So  all  he  did  was  to  get  into  the  boat.  It  was 
290 


THE  ICE  GOES  OUT 

easy.  Then  he  took  one  of  the  pieces  of  driftwood 
and  helped  Swatty  paddle. 

So  then  everything  was  all  right  and  Bony's  father 
was  n't  drowned  or  had  n't  shot  himself  or  anything, 
so  Bony  began  to  cry  again. 

It  took  us  a  long  time  to  get  the  boat  back  where  it 
belonged  and  a  longer  time  to  walk  back  to  opposite 
the  town.  It  was  dark  when  we  got  there  and  the  ice 
was  still  going  by,  and  we  knew  it  might  be  a  week 
before  we  could  get  across  the  river  again ;  but  all  at 
once  we  heard  a  rifle  or  a  shotgun  across  the  river, 
and  then  Bony's  father  fired  his,  and  that  let  them 
know  he  was  all  right.  So  then  we  all  worked  and 
built  a  big  driftwood  fire  and  when  it  was  burning 
we  walked  in  front  of  it  —  one,  two,  three,  four,  and 
then  back  again:  one,  two,  three,  four.  We  hoped 
they  could  see  there  were  four  of  us  and  that  we  were 
all  right. 

And  they  did,  because  right  away  somebody  shot 
off  a  pistol  —  one,  two,  three,  four.  That  meant  they 
knew  there  were  four  of  us. 

Well,  it  was  two  days  before  we  could  get  across 
the  river  again,  but  we  got  our  meals  at  a  house  up 
on  the  bluff  and  slept  in  their  barn,  and  it  was  good 
enough  fun. 

When  Bony  got  home  his  father  said: 

"Mother,  look  at  this  young  hero!  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  those  boys  I  would  be  dead  this  minute. 
Now,  stop  crying  over  him,  and  go  and  make  him 
the  biggest  lemon  meringue  pie  he  ever  saw!" 
291 


SWATTY 

So  I  guess  Bony  felt  all  right.  But  when  I  got 
home  Mother  said: 

"Well,  thank  goodness  you  're  back!  That  child  — 
Mamie  Little  —  has  pestered  the  life  out  of  me  ever 
since  you  went  away.  For  mercy's  sake,  run  over  and 
tell  her  you're  home  again!" 

That  was  all  right,  but  the  best  was  that  Bony's 
father  was  n't  mad  at  us  any  more  and  he  talked 
with  us  about  Dad  Veek's  barn.  He  was  pretty 
solemn  about  it,  and  when  we  had  told  him  all  we 
wanted  to  he  said  it  looked  serious,  but  he  would 
help  us  all  he  could,  and  the  first  thing  he  did  was  to 
go  to  Judge  Hannan's  office  and  see  Herb  Schwartz. 
So  he  found  that  Herb  was  already  bestirring  him- 
self, but  when  Bony's  father  talked  to  him  he  said  he 
would  bestir  himself  more  than  ever. 


XIV 
HERB  BESTIRS 

WELL,  the  first  thing  Herb  Schwartz  did  was  to  ask 
me  and  Swatty  to  go  down  to  Judge  Hannan's  office 
after  school  one  day  and  we  went.  Bony  did  n't  go 
because  Herb  did  n't  want  him  to,  and  when  we 
went  in  the  office  Herb  was  sitting  at  a  desk  and  he 
turned  around  in  his  chair  and  told  us  to  sit  down. 
So  we  did.  We  thought  maybe  the  first  thing  he 
would  tell  us  was  that  we  were  doomed  and  plumb 
goners,  and  how  many  years  we'd  have  to  be  in 
reform  school,  but  he  did  n't.  He  looked  at  me  and 
said: 

"Well,  George,  how  is  your  sister  Frances?" 

"She's  pretty  good,  I  guess,"  I  told  him. 

"That's  nice,"  he  said.  "And  how  do  you  like 
having  that  Burton  fellow  of  hers  bestirring  himself 
around  to  put  you  in  reform  school." 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said.  "I  guess  I  don't  like  it 
very  well." 

"I  should  n't  think  you  would,"  he  said.  "But  I 
suppose  your  sister  Frances  likes  it." 

"She  does  not!"  I  said. 

"That's  strange,"  he  said.  "She  thinks  you  are 

a  totally  depraved  young  reprobate,  don't  she?  It 

seems  to  me  that  the  last  conversation  I  had  with 

her  she  said  that,  or  words  to  that  effect.  I  supposed 

293 


SWATTY 

she  was  the  one  that  set  that  Burton  fellow  on 
you." 

"No,  she  did  n't!"  I  said.   "My  mother  did." 

"Oh!  your  mother  did,  did  she?"  Herb  asked,  but 
he  grinned. 

"No,  she  did  n't  either,"  I  said.  "All  she  did  was 
to  get  Tom  Burton  to  bestir  himself,  so  Dad  Veek 
would  n't  go  to  jail  or  anything.  She  did  n't  know 
he  was  going  to  bestir  himself  against  me  and 
Swatty.  My  mother  don't  want  me  to  go  to  reform 
school.  And  Fan  don't." 

So  then  Herb  asked  Swatty  if,  for  goodness'  sake ! 
he  could  n't  sit  still  without  knocking  his  heels 
against  his  chair.  Then  he  said  to  me: 

"Is  it  possible  that  your  sister  believes  you  are 
capable  of  regeneration?" 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  I  told  him,  "but  I 
guess  so." 

"I  mean,"  Herb  said,  "she  thinks  there  may  be 
some  good  in  you  after  all,  does  she?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  said. 

So  then  he  laughed  and  shook  his  head  as  if  it  was 
funny.  I  guess  I  knew  why.  I  guess  it  was  because 
the  reason  Fan  had  thrown  his  ring  at  him  was  be- 
cause he  said  I  was  some  good  and  she  said  I  was  n't, 
and  now  she  thought  the  way  he  thought. 

Then  Herb  sobered  up  and  asked  about  the  fire 

and  we  told  him  everything,  even  about  the  Red 

Avengers.  He  asked  questions  and  we  answered 

them,  and  he  seemed  to  know  almost  more  about  it 

294 


HERB  BESTIRS 

than  we  did.  He  knew  about  what  we  told  Toady 
Williams  when  we  were  just  bragging  and  that  we 
had  bragged  that  we  had  set  the  barn  afire. 

"But  that  was  just  pretend,"  I  said. 

"  A  mighty  bad  kind  of  pretend,"  Herb  said,  and 
he  asked  us  some  more  questions.  He  would  look  at 
some  papers  on  his  desk  and  then  ask  some  more 
questions.  When  he  got  through  asking  he  said: 

"Well,  if  the  case  has  to  go  into  court  Mr.  Rascop 
will  defend  you  two  young  rascals,  and  if  the  case 
comes  before  Judge  Hannan  I  think  you'll  have 
every  chance  that  can  be  hoped  for,  but  I  don't  like 
the  looks  of  things.  Judge  Hannan  knows  what  boys 
are,  but  if  the  case  goes  before  some  old  stiff  it  is 
going  to  be  hard  to  make  him  think  your  brag  to 
Toady  Williams  was  just  pure  brag.  At  the  best  it 
looks  as  if  one  of  you  two  must  have  dropped  a  corn- 
silk  cigarette  stub  in  the  shavings.  You  two  had 
better  walk  straight  and  keep  out  of  trouble  from 
now  on.  I'll  do  what  I  can  for  you." 

So  we  went  out  and  we  were  pretty  scared.  We 
did  n't  say  much.  We  just  walked  along  for  a  while. 
Then  Swatty  said : 

"Say!  I  know  who  wrote  all  those  questions  Herb 
asked  us." 

"Who  did?"  I  asked  him. 

"Fan  did,"  he  said,  "because  I  saw  what  Herb 
was  reading  from,  and  I  saw  the  last  page  and  it 
said,  'Yours  humbly,  Frances.'" 

So  that  was  how  Herb  knew  so  much  about  it, 
295 


SWATTY 

because  I  had  told  Fan  and  she  had  told  Herb  in  the 
letter.  At  first  I  was  pretty  mad  that  she  should  be  a 
tattle-tale  but  then  I  guessed  that  was  how  she  was 
bestirring  herself,  because  it  did  n't  do  any  good  to 
bestir  with  Tom  Burton. 

When  I  got  home  it  was  almost  supper  time  but 
Fan  came  to  the  front  porch  when  she  heard  me  and 
asked  me  if  I  had  seen  Herb,  and  all  about  it,  and  I 
told  her. 

5  "Well,  Georgie,"  she  said,  "I'll  stick  by  you 
through  thick  and  thin,"  and  then  she  began  to  cry 
and  ran  into  the  house,  and  I  went  in  and  mother 
stopped  me  in  the  hall. 

"  George,"  she  said,  "this  is  a  terrible  affair  and  I 
don't  know  what  will  be  the  end  of  it,  but  if  I  could 
give  my  life  to  keep  you  from  harm  I  would  gladly 
do  so.  And,  whatever  comes  of  it,  you  must  be  tender 
to  Fan,  because  she  quarreled  with  Herb  because  of 
you  and  now  she  has  quarreled  with  Tom,  and  she 
loves  you  very  much,"  or  something  like  that. 

So  I  felt  pretty  mean,  because  a  boy  don't  like 
that  kind  of  talk,  and  when  I  went  upstairs  and 
Lucy  was  coming  down  I  gave  her  a  push.  She  said: 

"You  stop  that!  Are  you  and  Swatty  going  to 
reform  school?" 

"None  of  your  business,"  I  told  her. 

"Oh!  you  don't  need  to  think  I'd  ask  you, 
smarty!"  she  said.  "I  don't  care.  I  only  asked  you 
because  Mamie  Little  asked  me  to  ask  you." 

So  then  I  felt  how  awful  it  would  be  to  go  to  re- 
296 


HERB  BESTIRS 

form  school  and  everything  and  I  went  up  to  my 
room  and  cried  on  my  bed.  I  was  up  there,  but 
mostly  done  crying,  when  my  father  came  up.  He 
put  his  hand  on  me  and  said: 

"Here,  now!  None  of  this,  old  sport.  Buck  up! 
We'll  get  you  out  of  this  all  right,  some  way.  Come 
on  down  to  supper." 

So  then  he  kissed  me.  He  had  n't  kissed  me  for  a 
long  time  before  that,  because  men  don't,  but  it  was 
all  right  this  time.  I  went  down  to  supper  like  he 
said. 

Well,  Herb  and  my  father  and  Swatty  and  me  had 
a  meeting  nearly  every  night  in  our  dining-room  and 
talked  about  how  we  were  getting  along,  but  we 
were  n't  getting  along  very  much.  The  only  thing 
that  got  along  was  Fan,  and  she  was  making  up  to 
Herb  again.  She  would  come  into  the  dining-room 
and  sit  and  talk  to  Herb  and  father,  but  she  could  n't 
fool  me.  She  was  making  up  to  Herb  all  right.  I 
could  see  that. 

Well,  one  day  Tom  Burton  came  over  to  our  house 
and  Fan  and  Tom  Burton  had  a  regular  row.  It  was 
a  dandy.  And  that  settled  Tom,  I  guess.  He  never 
came  to  our  house  again. 

Me  and  Swatty  had  to  go  to  school  just  the  same 
as  ever.  I  wished,  if  they  were  going  to  send  us  to 
reform  school  they  would  go  ahead  and  do  it,  because 
Miss  Carter  began  to  get  mean  to  us.  Professor  Mar- 
tin was  back  and  nearly  every  day  Miss  Carter  kept 
us  in  school  and  Professor  Martin  came  in  and 

297 


SWATTY 

talked  to  her  while  she  kept  us  in.  Mostly  they 
walked  home  together,  because  me  and  Swatty  saw 
them. 

Well,  me  and  Swatty  had  been  sort  of  mad  at 
Bony,  like  I  told  you,  but  you  can't  keep  mad  al- 
ways, and  we  started  to  letting  him  be  with  us  again. 
So  one  day  me  and  Swatty  and  Bony  got  out  of 
school  late,  because  Miss  Carter  had  kept  us  in,  and 
Scratch-Cat  had  been  kept  in,  too.  We  all  came  out 
of  the  schoolhouse  together.  It  was  almost  spring 
again  and  Bony  had  some  marbles  he  had  bought, 
so  we  said : 

"Let's  play  marbles." 

Scratch-Cat  did  n't  want  to. 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to,"  Swatty  told  her. 
"You're  a  girl,  anyway.  What  do  you  want  to 
play?" 

"I  don't  want  to  play  anything,"  she  said.  "I've 
got  a  better  game  than  a  play-game,  and  you  can  be 
in  it  if  you  want  to." 

"What  is  it,  then?"  Swatty  asked. 

"Secret  society,"  Scratch-Cat  said.  "I  thought  it 
all  up  in  school  to-day  and  it 's  Gypsies.  Swatty  will 
be  the  king  and  I' 11  be  the  queen,  and  Georgie  and 
Bony  can  be  princes,  and  we'll  take  an  oath  to  be 
mean  to  Miss  Carter  or  anybody  that  keeps  us  in 
school  or  anything.  We'll  think  up  things  to  do  to 
them,  and  when  Miss  Carter  and  Professor  Martin 
are  married  we'll  steal  their  children  and  raise  them 
to  be  gypsies — " 

298 


HERB  BESTIRS 

"Aw!"  I  said,  "they  ain't  going  to  be  married." 

"Yes,  they  are!"  l  cratch-Cat  said.  "Because  I 
saw  him  kiss  her.  He  kissed  her  in  the  cloak  room 
almost  before  I  was  out  of  it,  just  now." 

"Well,  we  ain't  going  to  be  secret  gypsies  or  any 
secret  society,"  Bony  said,  "because  me  and  Swatty 
and  Bony  have  one  already." 

"No,  we  have  n't,"  Swatty  said. 

"We  have,  too!"  Bony  said.  "We've  got  the  Red 
Aven— " 

He  stopped  pretty  short,  you  bet. 

"No,  we  have  n't,"  Swatty  said  again.  "We  never 
had.  We  had  a  meeting  and  voted  that  there  would 
n't  be  any  Red  Avengers  any  more  and  that  there 
never  had  been." 

"But  —  but  you  could  n't,"  Bony  said. 

"Yes,  we  could,"  Swatty  said.  "We  started  it  and 
I  guess  we  had  a  right  to  stop  it.  Me  and  Georgie  we 
voted  on  it.  There  never  was  any  Red  Avengers. 
And  I  '11  lick  anybody  that  says  there  was." 

"But  —  but  don't  we  have  to  be  true  to  the  oath 
any  more?"  Bony  asked. 

"Pooh,  no!"  Swatty  said.  "When  there  ain't  any 
Red  Avengers  there  ain't  any  Red  Avengers'  oath,  or 
nothing." 

"And  can't  anybody  put  me  in  state's  prison  for 
saying  what  the  oath  says  I  must  n't  tell  about  any 
Red  Avenger?"  asked  Bony. 

"  No,  sir ! "  said  Swatty.  "That  oath  is  a  dead  oath 
and  don't  count  no  more." 
299 


SWATTY 

"Well,  then,"  Bony  said.  "Toady  did  it!" 

"Did  what?"  Swatty  asked. 

"Toady  set  the  barn  afire,"  Bony  said,  still  pretty 
scared.  "I  could  n't  tell,  because  I  took  oath  not  to 
tell  on  any  Red  Avenger,  but  if  there  ain't  any  oath 
Toady  did  it.  I  saw  him.  He  had  a  pack  of  real  cigar- 
ettes and  he  did  n't  dare  smoke  while  he  was  skating 
because  Miss  Carter  was  skating  on  the  creek,  too. 

"So  I  guess  Toady  thought  he  would  go  up  to  the 
Nest  to  have  a  smoke,"  Bony  went  on,  "and  I  was 
going  home.  So  when  we  got  up  to  the  Nest  he  asked 
me  if  I  wanted  to  smoke  a  real  cigarette,  and  I  said 
I  did  n't.  So  Toady  lit  one  and  threw  down  the 
match,  and  it  set  the  shavings  afire.  So  he  tried  to 
stamp  the  fire  out,  but  it  spread  too  fast,  and  so  he 
ran,  and  I  ran,  and  when  we  looked  back  the  barn 
was  all  afire.  So  he  said  that  if  I  ever  told  he  would 
have  me  sent  to  state's  prison  for  breaking  the  Red 
Avengers'  oath  and  telling  on  a  fellow  comrade.  But 
he  did  it,  and  I  saw  him  do  it." 

Well,  Swatty  got  up  and  gave  a  yell  and  he  had  to 
hit  some  one,  so  he  hit  Scratch-Cat,  and  she  went 
for  him  and  they  had  a  good  fight,  but  Swatty  was 
laughing  all  the  time,  and  he  did  n't  fight  as  hard  as 
he  mostly  did.  When  they  got  through  fighting  they 
shook  hands,  and  we  all  went  down  to  Herb's  and 
he  listened  to  what  we  had  to  tell  him. 

That  ended  it,  except  that  he  sent  the  engagement 
ring  back  to  Fan  in  a  letter  and  she  kept  it,  and  Mr. 
Williams,  who  was  Toady's  father,  moved  out  of 
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HERB  BESTIRS 

town  mighty  quick  and  took  Toady  with  him,  be- 
cause Herb  telephoned  him  right  away  and  I  guess 
he  thought  he  had  better  do  it. 

So  that 's  all.  Me  and  Swatty  did  n't  go  to  reform 
school.  We  didn't  go  anywhere.  The  only  others 
that  went  anywhere  were  Herb  and  Fan.  They  went 
on  a  marriage  trip,  or  whatever  you  call  it. 


THE  END 


Cbe 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S    .   A 


000  034  542 , 


